


The Beast of Mount Taebaeksan

by MyReasonsToLiveAreDwindling



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Air Elemental!Hyunjin, Bang Chan & Lee Felix are Best Friends, But that's a later me problem, Cryptid!Chan, Dryad!Felix, Fire Elemental!Jisung, Fire Elemental!Seungmin, Fluff, M/M, Murder has never been so gay, Rock Spirit!Changbin, Soft boys are soft, They are Monster Boys but its still very fluffy, Things might get serious later in the story, cryptid AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:33:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 38,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25360204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyReasonsToLiveAreDwindling/pseuds/MyReasonsToLiveAreDwindling
Summary: Being the monster that stalks the forest at night has its perks. There isn't much to be afraid of (youarethe thing to be afraid of), very few people bother you (you're allowed to eat the ones that do), and things don't change all that often (which is nice, because too much change is unsettling).But... It can get lonely. Chan knows this all too well, and for the most part, he's come to terms with it.Then one night, he stumbles across a pretty fire elemental who isn't afraid of him, and Chan realizes that maybe some changes are for the best.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Kim Seungmin
Comments: 22
Kudos: 58





	1. Of Chanlings and Elementals

**Author's Note:**

  * For [norudeghosts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/norudeghosts/gifts).



> I honestly have no idea what I'm doing here.
> 
> Everything was normal and then norudeghosts sent me a fanfiction and now I'm in K-pop hell and I don't want to escape.
> 
> I wrote the first part of this while absolutely trashed because I was staring into a bondfire for too long and started getting weird ideas. Thankfully, Goth was there to encourage me to finish it after sobering up.
> 
> norudeghosts beta'd this story! Her SeungChan content is much better but I am still here Doing My Best.
> 
> Enjoy!

The dead leaves piled on the cave floor crunch as talons bite into them.

  
Dried bones that have long ago been picked clean clatter against each other as he shifts, pulling himself out of his den, dragging himself from the lazy doze that often takes the place of actual sleep. The walls brush against his large frame when he moves, long, tangled fur catches against the rough stone and tugs. From somewhere deep in his chest, a low, rumbling snarl echoes up, filling the quiet night air with terrible, unnatural sound.

  
Outside is dark, evening having come and gone hours previously. Whatever remnants of sunset there might have been have long since faded, leaving the mountain coated in a blanket of deep shadows. The soft moonlight that peaks its way through the trees is easier on his eyes than the harsh sunlight of day, and as his head dips out of the mouth of the cave, it reflects off the ivory of his thick, sharpened antlers, and the leathery skin of his wolf-like features.

  
Slowly, he emerges from his cavern. His unnaturally long arms stretch forward, before paws ending in sharp claws sink into the slightly damp earth of the forest floor. They’re followed by a torso covered in long, curly white fur and gleaming exposed ribs. The oddly emaciated abdomen gives way to thick, hairy haunches, and large, clawed feet, that scrape against the stone as he finally pushes himself entirely out into the night. Freed from his den, he stretches, his bizarre limbs moving with surprising grace, before giving himself a shake, one vaguely reminiscent of a dog.

  
Snuffling at the gentle breeze that winds through the trees, he lets dark red eyes slide closed, analyzing the scents passing through the area. Among them he can smell the rain that had fallen last week, the faint trails of the various small animals who had passed by his cave recently, and the thick blanket of the yew and birch trees that hang over his head. But among them… Yes, there’s the barest hint of human.

  
Another unnatural, predatory sound escapes his throat. He’s been hungry for a few days, now is the time to hunt.

  
With surprisingly quiet steps, he pads away from his den, nose still in the air, following the faint scent trail still clinging to the surrounding forest and mountain side. There were often wandering humans up here, considering the sacred temple that was located nearby. It made for easy pickings whenever someone made the mistake of wandering off the beaten paths and into the forests that surrounded the shrine.

  
Some called him the defender of the temple, an ancient beast sent to protect the sacred ground. Others claimed the temple was the only thing that kept him in check. In reality, neither theory was entirely true. Yes the shrine wasn’t part of his territory, and yes he preyed on the humans who wandered off of the beaten path, but he was not tied to the temple. He simply _existed,_ and had for long enough that he’d forgotten how he’d gotten there. 

  
Perhaps there had been more like him, once upon a time, and they too had stalked the mountain range, feeding on the more foolish humans who wandered into their territory. But as far as he knew, he was the only one left.

  
Or perhaps, he’d been the only one to begin with.

  
The locals called him a _Chanling._ Something about his habit of hunting in the night, and how his body was that of many different creatures, all combined together. Of course, giving his kind a classification implied there were multiple. He’d never seen any like him, so he’d taken _Chanling_ on as the closest thing he’d ever have to a name. Eventually, it had been shortened to Chan, and that became who he was.

  
Not that the humans ever called him by that name, but Chan liked it, and it made it easier to talk to the other forest spirits, who all had taken names of their own.

  
Sniffing the air once again, he catches another powerful whiff of _human_ and turns to peer through the shadows. Someone had been this way, recently, if the trail is any indication. Letting a soft growl build in the back of his throat, Chan continues to lope along, using his larger, ungainly right arm to help support his weight as he does so. As he moves, the shadows around him swirl and condense, almost physically cloaking him, hiding him from the prying gaze of any human or animal who might look his way.

  
He’s getting closer, the heavy, cloying scent of _person_ in the air is fresh. Primal thoughts fill his head as everything narrows down to the thrill of a hunt. He knows these woods like the back of his paw, and knows they’ll give up whatever prey they’ve caught for him. Whatever runs through Chan’s body in substitute of blood _thrums_ with the energy of a predator. Tonight is a good night to tear a body limb from limb, tonight is a good night to eat.

  
Heavy paws pound against the ground, fur catches and pulls in the low branches. The wind feels good against his face where it brushes past the skin and through the unruly mane of lanky fur that sprouts from his head. Letting his mouth hang open, Chan catches a lungful of the scent he’s following and his mouth begins to water.

  
He’s so set on his path through the trees that when the scent veers off sharply in an entirely different direction, he almost skids in his quick attempt to stop. Catching himself with a paw, Chan tosses his head in the direction the smell wants to take him.

  
It’s towards the shrine. Rather directly too. Almost as if the lost human had finally found its way through the trees. Following it would be a risk, the temple isn’t part of his territory, and the large number of humans there aside, there’s always been a certain presence around the shrine that he knows better than to cross. He’s not sure how much trouble he wants to go to for one meal.

  
As some of the haze of the hunt leaves him, Chan twitches his ears in the direction of the scent trail. If the human is close enough to hear, he can probably risk it. If not, well, there’s always tomorrow night to hunt.

  
But there’s no sound, apart from the rustling of small furry creatures scuttling through the undergrowth and the breeze gently stirring the leaves above.

  
No.

  
_Wait…_

  
It’s that moment that he hears it; soft, crunching footfalls. Not from the direction of the shrine, but to the north, further up the mountain.

  
Confused, Chan lifts his muzzle into the air and sniffs. All he catches is the scent of the original human he’d been following, the one who had gone off towards the temple. Yet there it is again, the unmistakable shuffle of footsteps, _human footsteps_ if he’s any judge. Logically, he should be able to smell them if he can hear them, but perhaps he’s simply upwind of them? He doesn’t question it for long.

  
Though he could _probably_ still catch the human he smells before they reach the shrine, his curiosity is peaked. Someone he can’t smell is on his mountain, wandering unwelcomed through his territory. Slowly, he turns and twitches an ear. The footsteps are getting further away. Without a scent trail to track, if he’s going to go after the person, he should follow them now before they vanish and he never finds them at all.

  
His mind made up, Chan begins to quietly lope through the forest once more, this time listening rather than sniffing his way along.

  
As he draws closer, he begins to realize there _is_ a scent, just not a particularly powerful one. Rather than the usual pungent aroma of body odor and synthetic products that hangs heavily around most humans, this smell is a _warm_ one. Chan can’t think of a better way to describe it. Like the smell of a hot day, or a sun-warmed rock, though neither of those seem like the right answer. Regardless, he keeps following, his paw-steps becoming softer, even though he really has no need for stealth. He hasn’t met a human or animal yet who can outrun him.

  
The footsteps he’s following stop, and he slows as he nears the small clearing ahead. Peering through the trees, crouching to keep his profile low, Chan finally sees his quarry. And for a moment, he’s entirely underwhelmed.

  
He’s not sure what he expected from someone that didn’t smell like anything but _warmth,_ but perhaps he had something more imposing or strange in mind than the lean frame that reflects in the moonlight streaming through the trees.

  
The boy is simply standing in the middle of the clearing, as though entirely unaware of the looming presence behind him. He’s wearing simple human clothing, one of those things Chan had never spent time paying attention to as it shreds under his claws, and brown hair decorates his head, wavering slightly as the slight breeze catches it and attempts to carry it away.

  
A wave of the human’s scent hits Chan, and he wrinkles his nose as the smell of _smoke_ of all things tries to overwhelm his sensitive nostrils.

  
There is _nothing_ remarkable about the boy, but Chan is still standing there, unmoving. Maybe it’s the smell of smoke, maybe it’s the moonlight reflecting off of pale skin. Maybe it’s some strange voice in the back of his head that’s telling him to run. Whatever it is that’s holding him back, Chan discards it. After all, he’s hungry, and this human shouldn’t be here.

  
Without preamble, he steps through a gap in the trees and lets out a growl that echoes across the mountain before tensing his back legs, preparing to pounce.

  
There’s no scream from the boy, in fact, there’s hardly any reaction at all. Instead, he simply spins on his heels precisely, his eyes searching for the source of the sound. As the boy does this, Chan is already in the air, springing at the human before he has a chance to run. Maybe, if he’d waited for a moment, Chan could have prevented this, but it’s already far too late by the time he notices that the eyes that meet his aren’t the usual dull colors of a human, but instead a solid bright fiery orange. He’s already committed to the pounce, and he can’t exactly take it back.

  
Time seems to stop, and for a fraction of a second, Chan sees a smile pull at the human’s lips.

  
Then everything jolts back into motion and he connects with the boy, sending them both sprawling. Letting out a bone-chilling screech, Chan pins the other to the ground, holding him there with the sheer weight of his body. Claws tear through the flimsy material of the jacket the human is wearing, and talons quickly meet tender skin, piercing into it like it’s made of paper.

  
And it’s at that moment that everything goes sideways. Because it isn’t blood that Chan finds, but pure, liquid fire.

  
Under him, the human, or rather, the _whatever it is_ begins to laugh.

  
Instantly, he becomes aware of the fact that it’s _hot_ and his talons are probably melting, and the fur of his right arm is starting to catch fire. Panic fills him as he rears back, shaking out the spark in an attempt to deaden it before it can properly take root, but it’s too late, he can already feel his leathery skin starting to burn as his fur smolders. Holding back the whimper of fear that threatens to escape him, Chan leaps off of the creature that’s still lying on the ground, laughing. Quickly, he presses his paw against the damp mud of the clearing and is relieved when the budding flames deaden.

  
A moment later, he remembers that the potentially deadly _thing_ is still in the clearing and wheels to face it, putting some distance between himself and the fire creature that has darkened his mountain.

  
Or, perhaps brightened is the more correct term…

  
The boy’s laughter has subsided. He’s still lying on the ground where Chan left him, but he’s smiling, a delighted happy expression that confuses the other entirely. What’s worse, Chan can’t help but be _captivated_ because he’s never seen a smile like that before in his life. “You’re more flammable than you look,” the boy comments, the mirth from before giving way to a soft, pleasant voice.

  
It takes ten full seconds for Chan to realize that not only is the boy speaking in a language that he can understand, but he seems entirely unshaken by getting knocked off his feet by the monster of the forest. Both of these revelations are a lot in and of themselves. Together, they’re enough to temporarily short circuit Chan’s brain.

  
And once he does get some mental faculties back, the only question his baffled mind can put together is, “You aren’t afraid?”

  
As though the question is funny, the boy’s eyes curve up into amused half-moons. “You aren’t particularly scary.”

  
It’s so wholly non-threatening that Chan’s initial fight or flight response seems silly. Blinking at the boy, he stands a little taller and throws his horned head back. “I’m plenty terrifying.” He means it as a statement, but it comes out like a question.

  
“Not to me,” the boy responds, finally sitting upright. Now that he has a better view of whatever this creature is, Chan is able to see the marks in the boy’s skin where his claws broke the surface. The clothing around each mark is singed, and more liquid fire leaks out of each spot. Despite this, the boy seems entirely unaffected. If anything, he’s blinking at Chan with unabashed curiosity, batting long lashes over those uncomfortably bright eyes.

  
Sitting back on his haunches, Chan can’t help but ask, “What _are_ you?”

  
Pulling his legs to himself, sitting cross legged on the damp ground, the boy’s lips twitch, like he finds Chan’s question funny. For all he knows, the question _is_ funny. Maybe the answer to it is so abundantly obvious that asking at all is ludicrous and he just doesn’t know enough to see what’s right in front of his face. 

  
Feeling slightly put out that the boy he’d viewed as prey not a few moments ago is now making fun of him, Chan huffs and paws at his muzzle. “It’s a fair question,” he mutters, defensively. His hand still hurts where the fire burnt him. Belatedly, he thinks to check it over. The fur on his large right paw is completely singed off, his claws are scorched, and though his skin doesn’t show the damage very well in this light, he can feel it quite clearly. 

  
“It is,” the other agrees, nodding sagely. As he does, the soft brown bangs that frame his face fall into his eyes. “Of course,” he continues, a tad mischievously, Chan thinks. “I could ask you the same question.”

  
Seeing no reason to hide the information, he promptly says, “I’m Chan.”

  
For a second, the boy’s big eyes widen, then they crinkle at the corners and he’s laughing again. Chan wants to dislike the sound, it’s obvious now that he’s the one being made fun of, but the boy’s laugh is so _nice,_ so infectious, that he can’t bring himself to be hurt by it. And the way the sound echoes through the usually gloomy forest is nice in a way he can’t quite express.

  
Reigning in his chuckling, the boy fixes Chan with what’s probably supposed to be a serious expression. “I was trying to ask what you were,” he chides, lips still twitching towards a smile. “Not for your name.”

  
Oh. Well, retrospectively that made sense. Embarrassed, Chan looks away from the other and lets out a rumbling sound from the back his throat. “Sorry, I don’t usually… Well I don’t generally talk to the people who wander into the forest.” He’s not sure why he feels awkward, logically, this other creature is the one trespassing, but there’s something about that smile that’s entirely disarming.

  
And perhaps it helps that he’s terrified of catching fire once again. Though, perhaps it bore saying that he’s not scared enough to actually leave.

  
Tipping his head to the side, the boy says, “Considering your greeting, I’d guess you usually deal with intruders quite harshly.”

  
“That is one way to put it,” Chan agrees, with a rumbling chuckle of his own. It doesn’t sound as nice as the boy’s laugh does, but Chan doesn’t usually have reason to laugh about anything.

  
“So what were you planning to do to _me,_ Chan of the forest?” As he speaks, the boy shifts across the damp earth and Chan almost leaps out of his skin as the fire creature scoots closer. Noticing this, the other stops and gives him what Chan can only assume is a steadying look. “I’m not going to burn you.”

  
“But you already did,” Chan says, not thinking. A moment later it occurs to him that if this creature wishes him harm, he’s very clearly shown weakness, more than he’d already shown by leaping back when first burned.

  
Thankfully, it seems his concerns are unfounded for the time being. Lifting an eyebrow, the boy says plainly, “If I wanted to hurt you, I could.” Abruptly, he lifts a hand and fire leaps to life across his fingertips. Caught between fleeing and staring in wonder, Chan swallows and shivers, as though to make sure all of his parts are still attached and not burnt to a crisp.

  
“You’re… a fire spirit?” he guesses, physically sinking his claws into the ground to keep himself in place.

  
In the boy’s hand, the fire dims to a small flickering flame. “Fire elemental,” he corrects, glancing up at Chan’s face. “But close enough.”

  
“I… Don’t particularly like fire,” Chan manages to get out, struggling to keep his very rightful panic where it belongs. Honestly, saying he doesn’t like fire is an understatement. Whatever he’s made out of, he’s learned through trial and painful error, is very flammable. And that aside, his home is a forest, and his only friend is a tree. If someone started a fire… Chan shudders at the thought.

  
But… the boy doesn’t seem threatening. And after he admits he doesn’t like the flame, the fire elemental puts it out at once. Which at least means he isn’t cruel. For that, Chan is grateful.

  
“I can imagine you wouldn’t,” the boy agrees softly. “Though, it’s a good thing I had it, otherwise I’d probably be mincemeat right now.”

  
Awkwardly shifting his weight from one back leg to the other, Chan dips his head and admits, “Well, yes, I would have eaten you.” After all the boy looked so _human,_ the only thing that gave him away was the eyes and the scent. Retrospectively, Chan supposes he should have paid more attention to his nose. It had never steered him wrong before, what would have made this instance any different.

  
Entirely unfazed by Chan’s admission, the elemental uses the lull in conversation to scoot closer once more. Before Chan has the opportunity to protest, the boy opens his mouth and says, “My name is Seungmin, by the way. Since you gave me your name.”

  
Chan blinks at the elemental, _Seungmin,_ and nods shallowly, unsure how to respond. He decides _not_ to say that it’s a very nice name, because it sounds stupid even in his head and it’ll probably sound worse out loud. Instead, he finally manages a small, “It’s nice to meet you.”

  
“Are you sure?” Seungmin asks without a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

  
“I- Well, I mean I know- Look, I-” Taken aback, Chan quickly scrambles for an answer, only for Seungmin’s face to split once more in a bright smile, which is quickly followed by another one of his soft laughs. Realizing how easily he’d fallen into that trap, he huffs and pointedly doesn’t look at the other.

  
Shaking his head, the elemental schools his expression and says. “It’s nice to meet you too, Chan.” His name sounds very nice coming from Seungmin’s mouth; yet another dumb thing that Chan isn’t going to say. Thankfully, the elemental continues, filling the silence. “I’m sorry, I know you’re being sincere.”

  
“Are you always like this?” Chan asks, trying not to sound hurt.

  
“Yes,” Seungmin answers at once, with complete honesty. “Though usually, it’s to people who deserve it.”

  
Which implies that Chan doesn’t. Unsure how to feel about this, he simply shifts his front paws, only to remember the burn on his right one. It smarts angrily, and he has to bite down on the pained sound that threatens to escape him. Inevitably, perhaps, Seungmin catches this, and instantly reaches for his paw.

  
“You said you were hurt?” The question falls off at the end as Seungmin picks up the large taloned appendage and examines it closely.

  
Absolutely lost as to what to do, Chan just stares at the other and lies, “It’s not that bad.” Seungmin’s hands are so _small_ compared to his paws, and they’re warm, like sitting in a sunbeam, but much more intense. Somehow it matches the rest of him. His bright smile, his bright laugh, and his bright eyes, all of it reminds Chan of sunshine and fire. It’s scary, but it also has his attention in a hold so tight he can’t begin to get away. 

  
Seungmin lets out a soft hiss under his breath, distracting Chan from his thoughts. “I obviously burned you pretty bad, why would you pretend otherwise?”

  
“Well it wasn’t exactly your fault,” Chan mumbles, wondering if he should pull his paw away before he ends up with a much worse burn than the first one. But Seungmin seems more concerned than anything, and his fingers don’t light up with any more flames, so Chan forces himself to relax.

  
“It was my fire,” Seungmin points out.

  
Chan instantly returns with, “I attacked you.”

  
“I didn’t realize you’d catch fire so quickly,” Seungmin mutters, before looking away from Chan’s hand and up into his eyes. This close, Chan can’t help but notice the way the moonlight reflects off the other’s hair, and how it makes his skin almost glow.

  
“I hurt you too,” Chan argues, trying and failing to pay attention to the conversation. “So we’re even now.”

  
Seungmin snorts, as though he knows exactly what’s running through the other’s mind. “By that logic, I guess we are.” Cracking an apologetic smile, the elemental reaches up and, before Chan can duck away, ruffles the loose fur atop his head.

  
Unsure whether to be offended or not, Chan simply submits to the attention. Once again he catches the elemental’s eyes, and Seungmin lets out a chuckle as he pulls his hand back.

  
“You’re softer than you look.”

  
“Thanks?” Chan asks, hoping it’s a compliment of some sort. “You look… Ah, well-” Floundering slightly for the correct phrasing, he finally settles on, “More human than I expected a fire elemental to look.”

  
“It’s very convincing, isn’t it,” Seungmin agrees, holding up a hand. His skin is pale in the moonlight, absolutely unblemished, like nothing has ever touched it before. Chan can’t help but marvel at it. His own skin is either covered in fur, or is leathery and tough. Nothing like the elemental’s at all.

  
“Do all elementals look like humans?” Chan asks curiously, realizing that he’s never met any before today and doesn’t actually have a frame of reference.

  
Shifting back slightly, giving them both some room, Seungmin regards Chan with an unreadable expression for a moment before saying, “Not all of us do, but it’s common to take an at least humanoid form. It makes it easier.”

  
Captivated, Chan questions, “Do they all look like you?”

  
“No,” Seungmin answers with a laugh that’s as bright as his fiery glowing eyes. “We all have different ideas of what to look like. For instance, Jisung sometimes has a few extra eyes because he thinks they look cool.”

  
Chan tilts his head curiously. He doesn’t recognize the name, though that’s hardly surprising, seeing as he can count the number of other beings he knows on one paw. It’s a very short list.

  
Coming out of his own thoughts, Seungmin notices his confusion and quickly says, “Oh, you wouldn’t know who that is. He’s another fire elemental; a friend of mine, actually. We share the same foundry.”

  
Friends. Those are something Chan doesn’t have many of.

  
Chan doesn’t inspire friendship often. He’s a large, threatening monster in the eyes of most. Even in his own eyes, he’s not the type of being who attracts company. But Seungmin, from the little he’s seen so far, seems to be altogether different. He looks almost completely human, and he’s friendly. Even with a creature like Chan, he’s sitting a meter away, smiling softly like this is entirely normal.

  
Though Chan doesn’t usually think this much about companionship, Seungmin’s presence has him thinking about it awfully hard. It’s not that he’s entirely alone, but the other forest spirits he knows only come out during the day, and he, for the most part, is nocturnal. Say what you will, but it gets lonely, being the only creature that steps through the shadows of the forest at night.

  
Which, of course, makes him wonder why Seungmin is here in the first place. He had mentioned a foundry, Chan is fairly sure there aren’t any of those nearby. How he’d managed to find his way here of all places has him confused.

  
So he asks, because Seungmin makes talking easy. “Why are you up on the mountain, Seungmin?”

  
Glancing to the side, the elemental puffs out a breath. “I was bored, I guess.” Smiling slightly, he continues, “I’m sure it’s all old news to you up here, but I’ve never been so high up before. And I’ve never been so far away from home.”

  
Though he wants to ask where home is, Chan finds the words stick in his throat. There’s something about Seungmin’s innocent wonder at his surroundings that has him rendered entirely speechless. All he can do is watch as the elemental lets his head fall back before letting out a small, breathless laugh.

  
“You know,” he whispers, leaning back on his hands as he continues to stare at the sky. “I’ve always wanted to see what the sky looked like from all the way up here. Down near the foundry, you can’t really see the stars but…” Seungmin glances at Chan, and the expression on his face is nothing but pure joy. “Here, I feel like I can see them all. It’s really beautiful.”

  
“Yes,” Chan agrees, lightheaded for reasons far beyond his understanding. “Beautiful.”

  
Glancing back up at the sky, Seungmin muses, “I wish I could see them every night, but… I suppose I’m just happy I get to see them now.” Though Chan doesn’t often look at the stars, considering how he’s walked under them his whole life, he does take that moment to stare up at the heavens with the elemental, and marvel at the sparkling blanket that spreads out over the mountains like and endless sea.

  
The stars really are beautiful. Maybe it took someone else pointing it out, but at that moment, Chan decides they glitter all the more brightly for the elemental that watches them.

  
And among the many other thoughts that briefly skitter through his mind, Chan can’t help but think that he’s never seen moonlight as pretty as the light that falls across Seungmin’s face.

  
Honestly, he might have sat there all night, but the peace is broken by a distant rustling of the trees. Instantly on alert, Chan rises off of his haunches, his ears twitching as he lifts his muzzle into the air. Taking notice of his change in mood, Seungmin looks away from the sky, his brows pinching together as he does. “Is… something wrong?” he asks, tipping his head to the side as he asks.

  
Sniffing at the breeze, picking apart the scents that aren’t the warmth coming from the elemental beside him, Chan’s hackles rise. “A human,” he rumbles, as though this is explanation enough. It’s the one he smelled earlier, that he’d thought had made their way to the shrine. Apparently, they’d had the temerity to return.

  
“Ah,” Seungmin murmurs. “Do you have to go?” He almost sounds disappointed, and for a moment, Chan forgets about his hunger as he stares at the elemental.

  
“I probably should,” Chan admits, somewhat awkward. On one hand, he hasn’t eaten in several days, and he doesn’t like letting humans get away with blundering through his forests, but on the other, a large part of him wants to sit back down beside Seungmin and watch the stars. That desire is so unlike him, but… He can’t deny its existence.

  
Almost like he can see Chan’s indecision and wants to spare him the awkwardness, Seungmin smiles and dips his head. “Well then, don’t let me impose.” Chan almost disagrees with this aloud, says that Seungmin couldn’t impose if he tried, but he holds his tongue. “It was good to meet you, Chan.”

  
Though he can’t match the expression on Seungmin’s face, Chan decided that if he had human features, he would be smiling as well. “It was good to meet you too, Seungmin.”

  
Then, before he can talk himself into staying, he faces in the direction of the scent and takes off into the woods, leaving the clearing and the elemental it contains far behind him.

  
~ ・~

  
By the time he returns to the clearing, pelt bloodstained and stomach sated, Seungmin is gone. Which, Chan supposes, is probably for the best. He really would have sat there all night if given half the chance, if only so he could have some company for once.

  
Tossing his head, as if to physically remove the thoughts from his brain, Chan turns, and begins his loping journey back to his den.

  
~ ・~

  
“I met someone.”

  
Chan’s not particularly sure why he brings this up to Felix in the first place. The Dryad hadn’t asked, and typically, Chan doesn’t share much. Granted, this might be because he doesn’t have much to share, hunting is only so interesting, and pretty spots of moonlight are difficult to describe in a captivating way. Usually, it’s Felix who talks, and he tends to be better at it in general.

  
Mentioning the chance encounter with the fire elemental is out of the ordinary for Chan, but the words are already out of his mouth before he can stop them.

  
Felix, for his part, takes immediate interest, though it could be said he took interest in everything. Pulling pale green toes out of the river, the dryad stares at Chan intensely for a long moment, before his lips quirk up into a curious expression. “Did you now?”

  
They have an odd relationship, the two of them. Chan can’t precisely remember the day, month, or even year that he met the dryad, but he does have a vivid memory of standing in the river, scrubbing an especially stubborn bit of gore out of his fur, only to look up and find blank silver eyes staring at him.

  
Ever since then, there has been Felix, very stubbornly going nowhere. Which might have something to do with the fact his tree can’t go anywhere, but Chan likes to believe that Felix choses to stick around. Like most dryads, Felix was most active during the day. For once, Chan’s inability to sleep comes in handy, and he makes a point of wandering down to the riverbank every few days. It’s under the pretense of washing in the river, but in reality, it’s so he can talk with Felix.

  
If you were to put a label on it, you might call them friends. Though he can’t quite recall _when_ they got to know each other, or if Felix has other ideas about their relationship, Chan likes to think that they get along well enough.

  
The dryad is friendly, and has never been the least bit scared of him. Which leads to moments like these, where Chan washes out his fur -it’ll never really be white but he can try- and Felix curls up at the base of his Silver Birch tree and they both talk about whatever small things have happened recently.

  
Staring down at his clawed feet, which waver under the current of the river, Chan nods carefully and says, “It was a couple days ago, in the clearing up that way.” He gestures, even though he suspects the dryad has never been up there and has no idea what he’s talking about.

  
Felix, for his part, makes a sagely noise of understanding, as though he knows precisely which clearing is being spoken about. Perhaps he does, Chan has never actually asked how far the dryad can stray from this patch of river. Conversationally, he chirps, “Did they scream particularly loud?”

  
Thinking of the elemental, _Seungmin,_ Chan can’t help but remember, he mutters, “No, he didn’t scream at all.”

  
“You’re getting quicker,” Felix observes, clearly assuming an entirely different series of events than the ones that had occurred. Which is fair, Chan didn’t usually leave people alive. If he hadn’t experienced it, he would have believed it at all. He’s still baffled, even two days later.

  
Picking at a dried bit of something caught in the fur of his ungainly right arm, Chan admits, “He laughed, actually.” Without warning, his mind offers him the memory of Seungmin’s absolutely dazzling smile, with his slightly crooked teeth and the glow of fire that lay just beyond it.

  
“Ah, so he was one of _those_ types,” Felix sympathizes. “It’s always one of the two when it comes to people wandering around these parts at night.” Typically, he’d have a point. Chan has only ever run across humans who are actively trying to find the thing that haunts the woods, or humans who are lost and desperately want to escape. But this hadn’t been a human, this had been something else entirely.

  
For a moment, Chan considers just agreeing with Felix and letting the matter lie. After all, Seungmin probably isn’t coming back, and talking about it is only going to prolong the weird buzzing at the base of his skull. There might also be that small part of him that doesn’t want to share that moment with anyone, just in case talking about it makes it disappear.

  
But that’s silly, and he’s the one who brought the matter up in the first place so he might as well tell Felix the whole story.

  
“He wasn’t human.”

  
Freezing for a second, as if to better process the information, Felix cocks a leafy eyebrow. Slowly, the dryad repeats, “He… Wasn’t human.” Compared to how Chan had reacted when he’d met Seungmin, Felix is taking this rather well. In fact, he hardly seems surprised at all. Instead, his expression becomes one of consideration more than anything.

  
Absently splashing at the river’s water with one taloned paw, Chan nods, as if confirmation of the information was necessary.

  
Felix doesn’t say anything in return. For a long moment, they both simply watch as the blood from Chan’s fur drips in watery red rivulets down into the bubbling river below, disappearing before it has a chance to truly taint anything around it. At last, however, the dryad slips his pale papery feet back into the water before chirping, “If not a human, what was he?” The question is accompanied by shiny silver eyes that peer up at Chan with an almost innocent curiosity.

  
Uncomfortable, still sort of regretting his choice to open his mouth in the first place, Chan takes a couple steps back and sits down in the river, letting the water wash over the ivory of his exposed ribs and spine. Gazing off into the trees beyond Felix, he finally says, “He was a fire elemental.”

  
“And you let him _live?”_ Putting on an absolutely appalled air, Felix presses a twiggy hand to the papery bark of his chest. _“Chan-”_

  
“I know,” Chan mumbles, covering his face with a paw.

  
“-you do realize a fire elemental-”

  
“Could kill me?” he finishes miserably. The strange twinge in his chest is from the residual stress of that fact, he’s convinced. “I know, I really do, I promise I haven’t forgotten.” It’s still haunting the back of his mind, the moment he cut into Seungmin’s skin and found fire instead of blood waiting for him.

  
The elemental’s bright, unconcerned laugh accompanies the memory, and Chan’s trying to physically force the thought out of his head, now for entirely different reasons.

  
Once again, Chan tries to convince himself that he could have gutted Seungmin if he’d wanted to. Yes there would have been burns but he’d have escaped the encounter alive, right? It doesn’t make the knowledge that he had let the elemental live any easier for his brain to comprehend.

  
Unexpectedly, instead of berating him for his lapse in judgment, Felix’s face breaks out into a grin that stretches from ear to leafy ear. “Which means he was special, right? Otherwise you would have torn him apart before he hurt you or the forest.” The relief that the dryad wasn’t going to admonish him fades abruptly as the sentence sinks in.

  
Special? Staring into the rushing river water, Chan struggles with the word for a moment before shaking his head. “No.”

  
_“No_ what?” Felix prods, mischief beginning to play across his face.

  
Firmly, Chan states, “Seungmin isn’t special.”

  
“Oh he has a _name,_ does he?” The dryad sounds absolutely delighted. Realizing his mistake, Chan buries his face in his wet paws once more. Like the terrible forest spirit that he is, Felix just cackles at his misfortune.

  
Regret building swiftly, Chan shakes his head again, feeling ganged up on even though it’s only Felix and his own traitorous memories. “Leave it alone, okay.” He tries to inject a growl into his tone, but it doesn’t work quite right. For the life of him, Chan’s never been able to manage proper anger. Especially not with someone like the dryad. “I ran into him when I was hunting and I thought he was a human, but he wasn’t. There’s nothing more to it.”

  
Decidedly, he doesn’t mention Seungmin’s fingers brushing through the fur of his head, or the way the moon had shined especially bright every time he smiled. Felix would only make fun of him for it.

  
“I think there’s more to it,” Felix comments, completely ignoring Chan’s discomfort. _“Especially_ if he looked like a human. You’ve never let anyone live before.”

  
“I haven’t killed you,” Chan protests, knowing he’s fighting a losing battle.

  
As if he knows the same thing, the dryad gives a sharp-toothed grin. “As if you could kill me,” he dismisses. “I’ve been in this forest since long before you were here, and I’ll be here long after you leave.” Though he’s being flippant about it, Chan knows Felix has a point. Typically, dryads could live indefinitely. Their presence kept their tree alive and growing, and a dryad’s life was directly tied to said tree. As long as no outside force destroyed the tree, they could theoretically exist forever. Though he doesn’t know how long his own life span is, Chan can’t imagine living as long as forever.

  
Instead of saying this, however, he just lets out a puff of breath and admits, “I’d never hurt you.”

  
Felix’s expression softens. “I know, Chan.”

  
The lanky fur of Chan’s right arm waves and wavers in the water, like scraps of cloth fluttering in a breeze. Like the tattered sleeve of Seungmin’s jacket as he sat cross-legged across from Chan in that clearing.

  
Really, he needs to stop thinking about the elemental. Right now, before things get out of hand.

  
But it’s too late, he knows it is without even being told.

  
“He was nice to me, you know?” Chan mumbles, his eyes going slightly unfocused. “Like how you’re nice to me, but different.” Now that he’s opened his mouth, he can’t seem to stop himself from talking, the words tumbling out of him almost quicker than he can keep up with.

  
“He wasn’t afraid of me, Felix. He talked to me like I was ordinary and hadn’t just tried to kill him. Even though he had no reason to be, he was so _kind.”_ Suddenly, Chan becomes horribly aware that the fact he’s never going to see Seungmin again makes him inextricably sad. He’ll never see that bright smile again, or hear that effortless laugh. This really shouldn’t matter, and for the most part he’s able to convince himself that it doesn’t, but it still leaves his mood floating further downstream with the blood from his pelt.

  
Helplessly, Chan tells the dryad, “I didn’t kill him because I didn’t _want_ to.”

  
There, he’s said it. Now he can’t take it back, from Felix, or from himself. The words leave him exposed, like a raw nerve, but in a certain way, Chan’s glad he said it, because now he can admit that it’s true. Even if it does make him feel like he’s just admitted to something horribly wrong.

  
“Oh no,” Felix mutters, only intensifying that feeling of guilt.

  
“What?” Chan asks, a tad defensive.

  
Pursing silvery lips together, the dryad just stares at him, as though there’s a lot he could say, but nothing that he’s actually going to say out loud.

  
As his skin crawls under the scrutiny, Chan hunches his shoulders. “Don’t look at me like that.”

  
Finally, the dryad speaks. “Promise me you aren’t going to go wandering off the mountain looking for Seungmin.”

  
“I- What?” Confusion momentarily wiping away the feeling of embarrassment, Chan stares at Felix, waiting for the dryad to admit it’s just a joke. But he doesn’t, he just keeps serious silver eyes trained on the other.

  
“Promise me, Chan.”

  
“I-” The complete sincerity Felix is speaking with catches him off guard. Usually, the forest spirit is lackadaisical and carefree; right now he’s anything but. Considering the other’s request, Chan swallows before softly saying, “You know I’d never leave the mountain.”

  
Pinching his brows together, Felix asks, “Even for a friendly fire elemental?”

  
Even with the image of Seungmin lingering in his brain, the answer is an easy one. “Especially not for those,” Chan reassures him. When the dryad’s expression doesn’t change, he lets out a rumbling sound. “I know I didn’t kill him, but that doesn’t mean anything, I promise. I’d never just go wandering into human territory, I’m not that stupid.”

  
Sighing, Felix finally looks away. _“I_ know you’re not stupid Channie,” he sing-songs in a low voice. “I just wanted _you_ to remember that.” Kicking his foot, sending water splashing into Chan’s face, the dryad brightens. “Now, wipe that look off your face. No one likes it when you’re in a bad mood.”

  
And like that, the conversation moves on.

  
But Chan’s thoughts don’t move on. No, he keeps thinking about Seungmin, and about glowing smiles, and about how silly it was of Felix to think he’d ever go looking for the fire elemental, no matter how nice he’d been.

  
Maybe Chan had been worried that he was going to do something stupid as well, because as soon as he comes to this realization, that he isn’t going to go chasing after Seungmin, the tension in the nape of his neck releases, and the buzzing in his brain quiets. 

  
_Leave?_ The very idea was preposterous. His world would have to be ending for Chan to leave the mountain.

  
Satisfied with this knowledge, he leans back against the river bank and lets Felix chatter at him, feeling much more relaxed than he had before.

~o~


	2. When Lightning Strikes Twice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did the thing~
> 
> I am so happy people read the first chapter, I was so worried. I apologise for anything that is off, I'm still learning.
> 
> Thank you to norudeghosts for the continued betaing. Goth really do be here keeping me sane and letting me throw cryptid ideas off of her.
> 
> But I babble.
> 
> Enjoy!

It takes Chan two weeks to stop thinking about Seungmin. And he knows it takes that long because he keeps track.

Of course, it isn’t on purpose, it’s not like he’s  _ waiting _ for Seungmin to stop lighting little fires in his head, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t slightly relieved when things go back to normal.

After his conversation with Felix by the river, the memories of the elemental had stopped feeling quite so  _ ethereal _ and much more solid, which had been both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, it had made the whole thing feel more normal and less like some weird, mysterious dream about an entity even more Unnatural than himself. Talking about it helps Chan prove to himself that it actually happened, and he stops letting the chance encounter with the elemental occupy every piece of his thoughts.

The downside to all of this is that he finds himself harboring a tiny, flickering hope that it’ll happen again.

But it doesn’t.

One week passes. Chan sleeps, or at least he tries to, and he hunts twice, once when the mood strikes him and once when a human is dumb enough to wander into his territory. Life creeps on, entirely the same as before, like Seungmin had never appeared at all. Which is alright, it was a one time occurrence and while it definitely affected him, Chan isn’t about to let it upend his life in any real way. The elemental isn’t coming back, and he manages to convince himself that he’s fine with that. 

Yes, he sort of wants to see Seungmin again, but it probably won’t happen. At the end of the day, there’s nothing more to it.

Besides, why  _ would _ the elemental come back? Seungmin has a life down at the base of the mountain, one that is wholly unconnected to Chan’s. Their lives might as well exist on separate planes of reality for how unlikely their paths are to cross. Seungmin had stepped into his life for the briefest moment, and as these things go, he’d kept walking. For all his flaws, Chan isn’t dumb enough to try and chase after him.

Admittedly, Chan does go back to the clearing north of the temple one night, just to see if lightning will strike twice. But the clearing is empty when he gets there, and Seungmin’s scent has all but faded from the area.

He does stop to watch the stars for a bit, hoping to recapture at least a small fraction of the strange emotions he’d felt sitting beside Seungmin, but the pinpricks of light in the sky don’t glitter the same way they did that night, and he soon returns to his usual tired prowl through the forest, determined to forget the whole thing.

Though he isn’t able to truly wipe the memory of Seungmin’s smile from his mind -not that he really wants to in the first place- eventually, he does stop obsessing, and stops wondering if he should have forgone hunting that evening in favor of staying with the elemental for just a little longer. Everything around him falls back into the comfortable mental grooves Chan is accustomed to. His state of mind calms down, and finally, he can confidently say everything is truly back to normal.

Naturally, this is when the universe decides to permanently turn his life upside-down, as though the past two weeks had simply been a trial run. One moment, everything is fine, absolutely peaceful in fact, with nothing remarkable happening at all, and the next the world tilts off its axis and he’s sent free-falling into a situation he couldn’t have possibly foreseen. Incidentally, Chan can very easily pinpoint when this upheaval occurs, to the day, hour, and even minute. 

And he can do this because it’s the precise moment that Seungmin tumbles into his life for the second time.

~ ・~

The evening it all occurs is perfectly ordinary. 

There’s a gentle wind that winds through the trees, playing the natural song of the mountain better than any instrument ever could. It whistles over the little dips in the mountain rock, and keeps time with the beat of rustling leaves and the cadence of chirping insects. Something about it is hypnotic, like if you listened to it for too long, you would end up drifting in a trance.

Chan is certainly trying to capture that peaceful state of mind. It’s been another sleepless day, one where he simply curls up in the back of his den and stares mournfully at the sunlight streaming in through the entrance, waiting for either the bliss of unconsciousness or the shadows of night. Usually, he waits until the moon is up before venturing out, but tonight there’d been something about the melody of the woods that had lured him out earlier, while the sun was still hanging low in the sky.

Though he’s typically not one for the sun, considering how harsh it is on his eyes, or sitting around watching it no matter how nice it looks, there’s something about a sunset that Chan enjoys, at least occasionally. It’s dazzling, the way the sky lights up with a thousand shades of purple, red, orange and pink. And it always gives way to the comforting blanket of night that allows him to prowl about unhindered. Which makes it a good time of day, in his estimation.

As he usually does when he chooses to watch the sunset, he sits on his rock. It’s not really  _ his, _ no more than any other piece of the mountain belongs to him, but Chan likes this particular jut of sharp stones. It overlooks a steep, rocky hill, which drops off dramatically into a cliff. From that exact spot, there’s a gap in the ancient trees around him, and if he lifts his head, he can see for miles, down to the very base of the mountain, in fact. 

It’s a long way down, but he’s never had a problem with heights, and there’s something gratifying about looking out over the tops of trees that usually tower above him.

Tucking his paws under him, using his long talons to keep a tight hold on the edge of his perch, Chan lets a pleased rumble escape his throat. Though he usually curses his sleeplessness and the inordinate amount of time with his own thoughts that it leaves him, right now, he can’t complain. If it weren’t for that restlessness, he would miss moments like this, where the life of the forest envelops him like a presence, and the wind brushes through his fur like calming fingers. Even though he’s the only one there, Chan doesn’t feel the slightest bit alone.

The sun sinks another inch in the sky, shifting the colors of the clouds from yellows and oranges to deep reds and pinks. Each hue bleeds into each other, staining the sky and casting a beautiful glow on the tips of the trees. Where they meet the bright colors, the clouds flare up like flames, all the shades coming together to set the sky ablaze. Something about it pricks at the back of Chan’s mind, and he feels a note of  _ something _ well up in his general chest region.

The sunset reminds him of a certain fire elemental, he realizes ruefully. One with bright eyes like the sun, and fire that leaps to life in his hands like the flames in the sky that spread easily across the clouds. Even though the sun hurts his eyes, he keeps staring, squinting against the glare. The warmth reminds him of gentle hands and dazzling smiles, and the colors scattering across the trees remind him of moonlight glinting off soft brown hair.

Much like the boy he’d met that night, everything about the sunset has Chan entirely captivated, and just like Seungmin, it’s probably not something that’s entirely good for him.

As his thoughts circle the elemental, Chan’s eyes drift down the mountain, to the city that lies at its base. Probably, that’s where Seungmin is now, going about his life as normal. Maybe he’s talking to his other fire elemental friend, maybe he’s outside enjoying the very same sunset Chan is. Whatever he’s doing, he’s probably not thinking about the beast he met in the woods.

Which means Chan is the only one stuck with these strange thoughts.

At last, he shakes himself from his contemplations as he realizes the path they’ve taken him. Dipping his antlered head, Chan stares at his right paw, and the baby hairs that have sprung up to replace the ones that were scorched away. He’d thought he’d finally managed to forget about Seungmin, but apparently, the boy still wasn’t far from his consciousness.

He doesn’t really mind this, if he’s being entirely honest with himself. It’s inevitable that he’d remember Seungmin, considering how  _ little _ really happens on the mountain. And the memories are good ones, softer than most of the memories that stand out starkly in his mind against the backdrop of the endless cycle of life. Which must be why he’s been recalling them so frequently.

The only thing he can’t reconcile with this theory is the melancholy that claws at the back of his throat.

One thing he’s sure of is that turning it over in his head once again isn’t going to help anything. Forcing his mind to go blank, he turns his gaze back out at the sunset, and purposefully looks at it as only that. Just the sun sinking beyond the horizon and nothing more. 

The warmth is gentle enough to be soothing. Leaning forward into the last rays of the light, Chan lets his eyes slip closed as he simply soaks in his surroundings. Grasping a hold of his earlier contentment, he clings to it, and takes these moments to relax his body, until he’s drifting with the clouds over the trees, finally at ease once again.

Around him, the song of the forest swells to fill the silence.

There’s a rustle off to his right that breaks the uniform sounds around him. Twitching an ear, Chan ignores it. Nothing is foolish enough to try and sneak up on him.

_ Except- _

“Do you usually watch the sunset?”

Chan’s reaction is so fast he doesn’t have time to think it through. Before he can even fully assess the threat, he’s skidding backwards, his right paw swinging up sharply. Talons fly through the air and connect, and in less than the time it takes Chan to blink, a ball of white sweater and shocked, glowing eyes is sent flying through the air and thankfully far away from him.

For a fraction of a second, he feels a rush of relief that he’s dealt with the potential danger before anything happened. Of course, the fact they’d managed to get the jump on him should teach him to pay more attention to his surroundings, but that’s something he can berate himself on later. Now is the time to turn his attention to the creature in question as it crashes through the trees before bouncing off of the rocky ground below. He could chase after them, but there’s a pretty sheer drop just a few more meters away so it’s unlikely he’ll need to do anything more.

Actually, they’re surprisingly small, now that he’s looking at them. Almost human, in fact.

Wait no, that  _ is _ a human form.

And  _ oh, _ that’s a familiar head of shiny brown hair and he  _ definitely _ recognizes the eyes that briefly manage to lock with his as the other rolls down the slope with alarming speed.

Chan’s momentary relief is dashed as he realizes with a rush of horror  _ who _ he’s just sent crashing down the mountain.

Honestly, he doesn’t think; he just moves.

Panic washing over him like a torrent of icy water, Chan launches himself off of his rock in Seungmin’s direction. Paws connect with sharp rocks and he scrambles at the loose dirt around him for purchase as he rushes forward, forgoing grace for speed. All he can think is that the universe must be laughing at him because  _ what are the chances _ that Seungmin shows up when Chan has been wishing for his return for the past two weeks. And of course his reaction would be to attack the boy yet again.

The elemental is still tumbling down the mountain with alarming speed. His arms are flailing in an attempt to stop his fall, but it does no good. The loose rocks of the steep hill are impossible to get traction on unless your body is built for it, and Seungmin’s definitely isn’t. Looking out ahead of the elemental, Chan sees the cliff edge loom far too close for comfort, and he feels his organs struggle to escape his throat.

Putting on one last desperate burst of speed, Chan tenses his back legs and leaps once more. With surprising skill, he sails over Seungmin and lands at the cliff’s edge. For a moment, the drop yawns up to meet him, but he digs his back claws in stubbornly and grits his teeth. 

All he has time to do is crouch low and reach out a cushioning arm before Seungmin crashes into him. The force of the impact sends Chan skidding backward several terrifying centimeters, and for a moment he thinks they’re both going to go over the edge. Blindly, he flails out his free hand and latches onto one of the more stubborn saplings that clings to the cliff side. It creeks horribly under their combined weight, but mercifully, it holds, and both of them stop moving.

The whole thing, from him sending Seungmin flying to catching the other at the bottom of the slope happens in less than ten seconds, but Chan’s brain keeps spinning. His heart is thumping like he’s run for hours, and he’s sure he hears it pounding in his ears, almost entirely drowning out the sound of his own labored breathing.

Distantly, it occurs to him that he’s supposed to kill things, not save them. But he dismisses the thought almost as quickly as it arises.

Finally, he comes to enough to look over the elemental. Though he’d managed to keep the boy from tumbling off the cliff, Chan instantly feels guilt well up in his chest as he notices the ripped threads and jagged tears in Seungmin’s clothing and the angry, fiery scrapes that cover his arms and legs. The guilt gives way to a trickle of fear as he realizes how easily he could catch on fire like this, so close to the little lacerations in the other’s skin.

It’s cutting it unbelievably close, the heat coming from the Seungmin is almost unbearable, but Chan doesn’t dare pull himself away, too frightened that the elemental will end up going over the cliff if he does.

With a slight groan, Seungmin finally shakes off enough of his daze to shift his position against Chan.

“Seungmin?” he manages in a painfully nervous voice.

“I think that’s still my name,” the elemental mutters dazedly, before carefully sitting upright, using one of Chan’s haunches to balance himself.

Now that he can see the other’s face, Chan feels another wave of guilt rush over him. Seungmin’s typically unblemished skin is covered in scrapes and marks that are doubtless going to become bruises. There’s a cut under one of his eyes, and his hair is everywhere, which only adds to the complete mess the elemental has become. Even though he should probably be worried at the little trails of fire that leak from the other’s various injuries, Chan can’t make himself pull away.

It doesn’t help that, after prodding at the small laceration under his eye, Seungmin’s bottom lip sticks out in a small pout.

As he stares down at the elemental’s scuffed up face, the last of Chan’s common sense flees him and he says the first thing that comes to mind. “I was thinking about you before you showed up.”

The next coherent thought he has is something along the lines of hoping he loses his balance and falls off the cliff so he doesn’t have to deal with himself anymore.

For a moment, the elemental’s expression freezes, as if he’s not sure how to respond, then his eyebrows lift ever so slightly, and the side of his mouth quirks up in the beginnings of an amused smile. “Were you now?” Tipping his head to look Chan in the eye, Seungmin’s tone is still a little shaken as he speaks. “Was this your way of telling me you want me to leave?

Swallowing, Chan blinks several times in an attempt to get his brain to settle before letting a wolfish whine escape his throat. Dipping his muzzle, he quickly says, “That… was an accident. You surprised me and I don’t do well with being surprised.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Seungmin offers, a genuine expression on his face. “You definitely surprised me right back.” If it’s an attempt at humor, it’s a poor one, and Chan most definitely doesn’t relax. Noticing this, the elemental’s smile drops into something more serious, and he reaches a hand up to pat Chan’s arm lightly. “You also caught me,” he says sincerely, giving him a steadying look. “It would have been a lot worse if I went over the edge.”

Briefly, even though he knows he shouldn’t, Chan glances over the edge of cliff, down the to the jagged rocks and stiff trees below. The sight has him slightly light headed, not from vertigo, but from the idea of Seungmin lying broken at the bottom. The elemental might not be human, but a fall like that can’t be good for any kind of being.

Still, despite the other’s reassurances, it’s his fault that the whole situation happened at all. Turning back to Seungmin, Chan stubbornly insists, “You still got hurt.”

Blinking twice, as though Chan’s words don’t register, the elemental tilts his head to the side. Confusion breaking through his guilt, Chan mimics the head tilt. Obviously the other is injured, he can see the other’s large knit sweater starting to smolder where sharp rocks tore through it into his skin. No matter how different elementals are from humans, this can’t be a pleasant condition for him.

“You’re…” Chan struggles to find a word other than  _ bleeding _ that makes sense in context. “You have scratches.”

Comprehension visibly switches on behind Seungmin’s eyes. “Oh, this?” He lifts up a hand, displaying a portion of his injuries.

“That, and the rest of it,” Chan says, as though it needs to be mentioned.

Unexpectedly, a bemused smile creeps over Seungmin’s face. “Yes, I suppose they don’t look very good.”

And then, before Chan’s eyes, the scratches and scuff-marks begin to close up.

It’s slow at first, so creeping and perfectly gradual that he has to focus on it specifically to be sure he isn’t imagining things. But even as Chan watches, the rather nasty scrapes and beginnings of bruises start to fade. It’s like the fire that’s trying to escape the other’s form is coming to the surface and solidifying before evening out into Seungmin’s usual pale skin. Stunned, Chan just stares, completely unsure how he’s supposed to react, or if, in fact, he should be reacting at all.

As at last the especially bad cut under Seungmin’s eye closes up, the boy runs quick fingers over where the mark used to be, dusting away the faintest trace of ash.

“See,” the elemental says, in his usual soft voice. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh,” Chan mumbles. Part of him is wondering if he’s somehow dreaming, even though he can’t remember ever having a dream in his life.

Like surprising him is fun in Seungmin’s mind, the smile still playing across thin lips quirks up another half centimeter. “Something like this can’t hurt me,” he assures Chan. “It would have to be much worse, or it has to be something Unnatural causing the damage.” Glancing about as he continues to speak, the elemental finally takes in his surroundings fully and gets to his feet. A little unsteady, but no longer tumbling end over end, which is progress.

Realizing his position, still hunched over Seungmin protectively as though to keep him from falling, Chan judiciously steps to the side and finds a less precarious place to put his hind paws. “I still didn’t mean to send you flying like that,” he informs the other once again, wrinkling his muzzle.

The tree still clutched in his left hand lets out a soft, protesting creek, and he glances its direction. He’s all but destroyed the sapling, between his weight and his claws. Apologetically, he releases it, hoping that Felix won’t get on his case for mistreating the forest.

“Sometimes I deserve to get thrown,” Seungmin dismisses wisely, doubling over till he’s almost on all fours as he starts trying to scale the pebbly and unstable hill he’d just fallen down. Like he’s entirely unfazed by the whole thing. Considering how he’d reacted to getting attacked in the woods in the middle of the night, Chan can imagine that not much actually rattles Seungmin.

Still, his lack of self preservation is alarming. Within a few seconds of his climb, Seungmin has already managed to pull away two loose stones, and has almost slid back down to the cliff’s edge once more. Watching him, Chan makes the executive decision that this isn’t going to end well, and he’d rather help than watch it go terribly from a distance.

Letting out a rumble from the back of his throat, he steps forward and physically scoops up the elemental, pulling him away from his precarious situation. “Here,” Chan says, trying and failing to ignore the warmth radiating off of Seungmin as he settles the boy into the crook of his arm. “You’re going to fall.”

Seungmin’s eyebrows arch skeptically. “I was fine.” Despite his words, he makes no attempt to get away. Instead, he simply tangles his hot fingers in Chan’s curly shag rug of a pelt and holds on.

“You were  _ not _ fine,” Chan huffs right back. “I watched you.” 

“Maybe you should have watched closer,” Seungmin suggests conversationally. 

Chan lets out a snort. Honestly, Seungmin doesn’t weigh much. If it weren’t for the intense heat coming off of his lanky frame in waves, Chan might not have noticed he was there at all. “I’ll have you know I was watching you  _ very _ closely.”

Suddenly, the elemental’s voice is right against his ear as the boy amusedly hums, “Is that so?”

Startled despite himself, Chan has to physically lock up the muscles of the arm holding Seungmin to prevent himself from dropping the other. As though he knows exactly what he’s done, the elemental just laughs, and holds on a little tighter to Chan’s fur.

Whatever else the conversation is doing, it certainly isn’t helping either of them up the mountain. Forcing himself to not focus on his cargo, Chan simply maneuvers his way up the slope, digging his claws into the loose dirt until he finds traction. It’s a little ungainly with Seungmin clutched in one arm, but he manages, unwilling to just watch the other to struggle when he’s much more suited to this environment.

It takes a bit, but eventually, Chan reaches the jut of rocks he’d been watching the sunset from before Seungmin’s arrival, and, after coaxing the other to untangle his fingers from his fur, he sets the elemental down on the solid ground at last. Taking a long, slow breath, in an attempt to settle himself, Chan softly asks, “Please don’t fall again. I’m still not entirely sure how I caught you the first time.”

_ “Fall?” _ The elemental’s face splits into a wide grin that leaves Chan blinded and entirely disarmed. “Don’t  _ toss _ me again,” Seungmin suggests. “Then I’m sure we won’t have any problem.”

“Noted,” Chan mumbles, chagrined.

Letting out a light, unworried laugh, Seungmin reaches forward and runs his fingers through the mop of unruly fur that sprouts from between Chan’s antlers. “I told you, I’m not upset.” His hand is warm, his touch is innocent. Chan’s common sense ceases to work, perhaps permanently. “I deserved to get thrown after scaring you like that.”

Behind Chan, the last rays of the sun scatter across the two of them, and Seungmin’s happy face is lit up in a thousand shades of fire as his skin reflects purpleish pink and his hair glows almost red. Though Chan has always thought those colors were beautiful, they take on new life when worn by the boy sitting before him. Abruptly, he comes to the realization that he’s never going to be able to watch another sunset without thinking of the elemental. 

Maybe, that isn’t a bad thing.

“You didn’t scare me,” Chan says softly, unsure why he’s arguing the matter at all, but entirely unprepared to say any of the other things that crowd the tip of his tongue. “I was just surprised. And you didn’t deserve to be thrown anywhere.” 

Seungmin just chuckles in return, his whole demeanor going warm around the edges. Letting his fingers slip through curly white fur, grazing over leathery skin as he does so, the boy gazes past Chan into the stained sky. “I don’t blame you for watching this,” he murmurs, leaning into the warm light ever so slightly as he does. “The sun is beautiful from here.”

Beautiful it might have been, but Chan’s whole attention is on Seungmin, and he doesn’t think he’d be able to look away from the elemental if he wanted to. It’s so reminiscent of their first meeting, that he finds the same question he asked back then bouncing around the forefront of his mind.

“Why are you up here, Seungmin?” After a beat passes, he thinks to add, “Again.”

At his back, the sun finally slips past the horizon, and the blinding colors skittering across Seungmin’s face slowly begin to fade. Glancing back at Chan, the fire elemental searches his face for something, before flicking on that overwhelming smile and turning its power very decidedly in his direction.

“I wanted to come back,” the boy says, pulling his legs up and tucking his knees beneath his chin. Though his sweater is mostly destroyed, the sleeves still manage to slip over his hands as he crosses them over his legs. He looks so delicate like this, as if he could break if breathed on incorrectly. But his eyes glow with white-hot fire, and Chan knows better than to doubt how dangerous Seungmin can truly be.

Absently scraping the stone under his paws with his talons, Chan turns the words he’s been given over in his head and finds they don’t really answer the question he’d been asking. Obviously Seungmin’s here of his own volition, but… no one makes a climb like this without a reason.

Carefully, he prods, “But  _ why _ did you want to?”

Eyes widening, Seungmin tips his head to the side, almost like a puppy. “Isn’t that obvious?” he questions, lips parting in a bemused expression, like he’s trying not to find Chan’s question funny but can’t quite make it.

Absolutely lost, Chan paws at his muzzle and mutters, “No. Should it be?”

Predictably, Seungmin takes two seconds before bursting into -perhaps well deserved- laughter so bright that it seems to re-ignite the fire in the quickly dimming sky, if only for a moment. “If you don’t already know,” he informs Chan in an attempt at seriousness, struggling to reel himself back in and failing horribly. “Then  _ I’m _ not telling you.”

Somewhere, there was a joke, and Chan had entirely missed it. Setup, punchline, and all. But it occurs to him, somewhere between huffing at Seungmin for laughing at him, and thinking that he can’t really complain when it makes the elemental look so happy, that the thing he’s been quietly hoping will happen for two weeks has finally taken place. And despite Felix’s worries, he hadn’t even had to wander off the mountain to make it happen.

In that moment, with Seungmin beaming at him with his slightly crooked smile, and night just beginning to take over the forest, Chan realizes he’s content. It’s not often he feels like this; it takes him a moment to identify the emotion, but once he does, he can’t seem to shake the thought.

Simply by being here, this elemental has brought a bit of light into an otherwise monotonous existence, and he probably isn’t even aware of the fact. But Chan is, and even though it fills his head with a thousand other things that he really shouldn’t be thinking about, he’s undeniably happy.

It’s like lightning has struck twice.

More specifically, Chan feels like he’s the one who’s been hit by that lightning. Because what else could have scrambled his brain like this? Here he stands, before a fire elemental wearing a human’s form, but he isn’t running, and he isn’t throwing the creature off of his mountain. Even though there’s a buzzing at the nape of his neck, and a voice in his head that’s telling him he’s doing something stupid, Chan isn’t listening.

Seungmin is dangerous for him to be around. It’s amazing how little he cares.

Cautiously, so he doesn’t jostle the elemental, Chan shifts his weight backward before gracefully leaping up onto the jut of rocks. After Seungmin scoots to the side, giving him room, he settles down to sit, facing out over the edge of the mountain. The second he’s situated, the elemental presses up against Chan’s side, sending warmth washing over him. It’s just shy of being too hot, but he doesn’t push Seungmin away, he just hunkers down and lets that foreign feeling that is contentment sink deep into his very core.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Chan admits, his words a soft rumble against the wind that’s still pushing through the trees. They’re almost washed away by the sounds of the forest around them, but once he hears himself say it, he knows just how true it is. Clearing his throat, he decidedly continues, with a little more certainty in his tone, “I thought I’d never see you again.”

Humming under his breath, Seungmin cocks his head to the side, and peers up at Chan with subdued curiosity. Feeling very much like he’s under some sort of spotlight, Chan flexes the bony joints of his paws and struggles not to move under the innocent glow of the other’s eyes. 

Without an ounce of the usual levity that laces his words, the elemental asks, “Did you want to see me?”

It dawns on him at that moment that perhaps Seungmin is asking the question as much for his own benefit as for Chan’s. Even though it’s a silly thought to have, he wonders if perhaps the boy has spent the past two weeks thinking about their chance meeting in the woods as well.

Of course, that’s probably just wishful thinking. Still, Chan answers honestly, mostly because he’s not sure if he  _ could _ lie to Seungmin. “I think I did.”

The elemental’s eyes drift back to the horizon, where the pinks and reds of the sky have faded into a subtle purple, which bleeds into the dusty navy of night. Seungmin’s arms tighten where they’re still wrapped around his knees, and the wind ruffling the trees blows his soft brown hair over his face. “If I were to come up here again,” he ventures, puffing out his cheeks ever so slightly as he does. “Would you be happy to see me?”

It doesn’t take Chan much thought for that one.

“Definitely.”

Seungmin’s shoulders relax ever so slightly, as though he’d been worried about Chan’s answer, and a smile creeps over his lips. “I suppose I’ll come back then.”

“No more sneaking up on me though,” Chan quickly says, trying to fix the elemental with a stern look despite his wolfish-features not quite working that way. “Because that didn’t end well.”

Seungmin’s only response is to laugh.

~ ・~

He does come back.

Chan made a point of not getting his hopes too high, just in case the elemental decided not to return after all. There had still been a part of him that was worried Seungmin was just a dream, or something equally insubstantial. If it all turned out to never have happened, or if something unexpected occurred and they never met again, he didn’t want to feel like he had lost something important.

Even though he’d known he would.

But his concerns end up being unfounded. Three days later, there’s a soft rap of knuckles against the entrance to his cave, and an equally soft voice. When he cracks open one red eye, he finds a familiar fire elemental standing there, a slight smile adorning his face that still manages to be as bright as the sun.

And it’s like this that everything changes, as Seungmin lights his life ablaze, one little flame at a time.

~ ・~

“You aren’t very good at this.”

Currently, they’re scaling some of the rockier parts of the mountain, which looks all the more endless and intimidating for the lack of trees. It’s hardly the peak of the mountain, that would have been a much more ambitious climb, but it’s time consuming enough. And it’s endlessly pleasant, with the still air and the waxing moon casting the whole rock-face in gentle, silvery light.

Chan has his eyes fixed resolutely on Seungmin. Granted, this isn’t particularly out of the ordinary, he finds himself staring at the other  _ a lot, _ but right now, he has a reason. The elemental, he’s discovered, isn’t great at climbing. Usually, he’s exceptionally poised, but at moments like this, Chan thinks he looks unnecessarily precarious. 

It’s all he can do to resist the urge to grab and carry him.

Pale fingers scrabble to find a new hand-hold, and Seungmin gives his head a minute shake to toss his bangs back from his eyes. “Not all of us are built for this,” he points out, before pulling himself up over another little outcropping of rock. The sharp edges catch on his loose purple button-up, and he has to spend a moment disentangling himself before continuing his climb.

Glancing down at his own very differently shaped form, Chan supposes he has a point. His hind paws can get excellent traction, even on rocky areas like this, and his talons make finding purchase easy. Whatever else you could say about the odd combination of limbs that make up his body, Chan is made for the mountains.

Seungmin is definitely not.

Puffing out a breath, Chan inches up the incline a little further, being certain to stay somewhat behind the elemental on the off chance that he chooses to fall. “Humans do this kind of thing all the time.”

Turning to glance down at him, Seungmin lifts an eyebrow and it disappears behind brunet hair. “They also use the man-made trails when possible,” he informs Chan, subtly bemused.

He has a point there. But there’s obvious reasons why they can’t do that. Even this late at night, there’s always a chance that someone will see them. Seungmin might be able to get away with that, he looks so human that he likely passes quite easily down in town at the base of the mountain, but Chan is an entirely different story. His form is blatantly monstrous, and no human is going to mistake him for something Natural.

Though Chan has little problem killing humans, he does it for food, or to protect his territory, not to cover up his own carelessness. Additionally, he’s not sure what Seungmin would think of that level of violence. Yes the elemental knows he’s capable of it, but it’s one thing to know and quite another to see.

But it’s hard to put all of that into words, so after a moment’s more thought, he settles with, “This is my land, and those trails are theirs.” Though he suspects Seungmin already is well aware of this, he continues, “If I am going to expect them to stay out of my territory, I have to do the same for them.”

Pulling himself up to a little plateau, Seungmin clambers to his feet, before turning to watch Chan make the same climb in a matter of moments. “Humans don’t think of things like you do,” he comments, his glowing eyes unsettlingly unreadable against the backdrop of a neutral expression. “A trail like that belongs to no-one, and I doubt they see the forest as yours.”

“Some of them do,” Chan points out, perching beside Seungmin and looking out over the mercifully flat stretch of rock before them. He has a vague idea of where they’re headed, and the rest of the journey should be over more gently sloping ground, instead of steep rocks. Hopefully, this terrain will be easier on the elemental. 

After that incident near the cliff, Chan has been understandably aware of the possibility of the other losing their footing, and he’d rather  _ not _ go racing after another falling Seungmin.

His train of thought comes to a stuttering halt as said elemental playfully pats Chan’s right elbow before humming, “And I’m sure you eat the ones who don’t.”

It takes him a moment to remember what they’d been talking about, the struggle made all the more difficult by the distracting heat of Seungmin’s fingers as they thoughtlessly weave through his fur. And once he does understand what the other is saying, he can’t help but let a sharp whine escape through his snout. Chuckling, Seungmin flashes a blinding smile. “I didn’t say that was a bad thing.”

Still, Chan feels the need to defend himself by questioning, “Don’t you guard your territory somehow too?”

Starting off across the rocks once more, picking out his path carefully, Seungmin waves a non-committal hand. “I don’t  _ have _ territory.”

Loping after the boy, Chan ponders this for a moment. It’s not a novel concept, Felix, for example, has never made a point of laying claim over anything. But he’s still most accustomed to his own way of looking at the world, where this area is  _ his, _ and that area over there belongs to the nebulous  _ them. _

“You said you have a home,” he points out at last. As he moves, his steps slow to account for the pace of the elemental beside him and the talons of his right paw click and scrape audibly against the stones. “Isn’t that like territory?”

“Maybe to some elementals,” Seungmin concedes slowly.

The way the elemental words his response leaves room for an obvious followup, so Chan asks it. “Not to you?” 

Though he hadn’t meant the question to be invasive, he sees the way the boy closes himself off from it, and instantly he’s left feeling like he’s overstepped some sort of boundary. Still, after a moment of silence, Seungmin rolls his shoulders and primly responds, “I’ve moved around. The foundry is just my current home, and I share it, so it’s hardly  _ mine _ in the first place.”

“With Jisung, you said?” Chan recalls, hoping to move the conversation away from the awkward weight that’s fallen over it.

Snorting, for reasons entirely beyond him, Seungmin nods. “Yes, him. But with humans as well.” Flashing a glittering smile, he explains, “Even though Jisung and I live there, it’s the humans who operate the machinery and keep the fires burning.”

Blinking several times at that, Chan unconsciously lets a low rumble echo up from his throat. Even the  _ idea _ of existing within close proximity to humans makes his hackles rise, he has no idea how Seungmin can talk about it with such flippancy. Then again, the boy maintains a human form, so perhaps it’s simply a difference in who and what they are.

Unable to find for himself a satisfying answer, Chan tilts his head. “Do you actually  _ enjoy _ being that close to humans?”

“Jisung loves it,” Seungmin mutters, equal parts exasperated and amused. “He thinks it’s hilarious to mess with the foundry workers, and nothing short of a disaster could stop him from wandering around the town.” The exasperation in his expression fades into something almost fond as he admits, “He’s young, relatively, and there’s a lot of the world he still wants to understand. Even though I’m usually around, I honestly think he’d get bored without some amount of human company.” 

Chan nods, even though his knowledge of the other fire elemental Seungmin spends his time with is limited. Jisung sounds energetic, sociable even. Which isn’t unheard of, some Unnatural beings just  _ are. _ It’d make sense for a creature like that to enjoy the presence of humans, however distasteful they could be in Chan’s opinion.

He’s prepared to leave the subject there and move on, until it occurs to him a moment later that by talking about his friend, Seungmin had entirely dodged the actual question.

Which only makes Chan want to know more.

“But what about  _ you,” _ he presses, too curious to consider the reasons the other might have for not answering. “Do you enjoy them?”

The understanding that there  _ are _ reasons, however, creeps over him the moment he sees the bittersweet smile adorning Seungmin’s face. The boy always looks so happy that the change is immediately noticeable; melancholy strong enough to be tangible. “I’m older than I once was,” he admits, eyes falling to the ground. Though the words are simple, the tone is rueful, and heavy with all the things that are going unsaid.

In Chan’s mind, the statement doesn’t answer the question in the slightest, but he suspects it’s as good as he’s going to get.

He’s starting to notice that more and more, the longer he spends around Seungmin. Though the elemental is relatively talkative, it’s rare that he shares anything about himself. Everything is harmless commentary about whatever situation he’s found himself in, that or playful jabs that he aims at Chan, whether the other can keep up or not. Only very rarely does he say anything that hints at something more.

Seungmin has never told him  _ not _ to ask, but Chan is beginning to wonder if he should keep his questions to himself regardless.

Besides, they haven’t known each other for very long. He’s not even entirely sure  _ why _ he’s curious about the elemental in the first place.

Thankfully, he successfully manages to keep these thoughts private, and Chan lets the conversation drift off into the cool night air without complaint. As the silence between them softens into something comfortable, Seungmin takes a breath, and some of the sadness on his face slips away. It’s hardly perfect; there’s still something lurking behind his glowing orange eyes. But it’s better.

At that moment, Chan doesn’t dare push it.

“You know,” Seungmin comments at last, as they slowly wind through the tall rocks that litter this final stretch of the journey. “When I decided to come up here tonight, I didn’t expect you to take me all the way up the mountain.” For a moment, Chan wonders if he’s complaining, but the elemental just sounds amused. As though this midnight romp is more fun for him than anything.

“We aren’t going all the way to the peak,” Chan reassures regardless, tilting his head to keep his antlers from getting caught between the stones to either side. “We’re going to a different spot of mine, just behind the temple.”

“I haven’t seen the temple once tonight,” the elemental observes, craning his neck as though he’s going to be able to glimpse it instead of simply seeing more of the rocks that surround them. “We’re giving it a very wide berth.”

“Yes,” he confirms. Though he can’t see it from here any more than Seungmin, Chan doesn’t need to have it in his field of view to know where the shrine is. He can feel it in the periphery of his mind. That strange, almost invasive presence that keeps him from coming up this way more often. “Typically, I try to stay away from it,” he mutters, physically shaking the strange sensation from his head.

“Too many people?” Seungmin guesses, popping up under Chan’s left arm so he can peer up at him with an inscrutable smile. 

It’s a rather lacking summary of the problems Chan has with the temple. But instead of going into it, he offers the vague answer of, “Yes, among other things.”

If Seungmin isn’t satisfied with this response, he doesn’t show it. Instead he just bobs his head in a nod before widening his slight smile into a blinding grin. “I suppose there’d be no point in being all the way out here if you had to deal with humans.” He does have a point there. Chan would have gone crazy if he’d been stuck in a densely populated area. The temple aside, he likes to stay away from the more frequented areas just for the blessed silence and peace it grants him.

“Speaking of being all the way out here-” Chan gives Seungmin a studying expression of his own. “What brought you up the mountain this time?”

There’s absolute mischief in the angelic smile that the elemental turns on him. “Was my promise to visit not enough?” It’s a nice reason, one that he would probably believe if he was a little more selfish, but Chan suspects it isn’t the truth. Making a dubious sound in the back of his throat, he tilts his head, and Seungmin breaks into a bright laugh that doesn’t seem to be at his expense. 

Schooling his expression a moment later, Seungmin lightly asks, “Alright, if not that, then what do  _ you _ think I’m here for?”

Feeling very much like he’s being put on the spot, Chan picks at the curly fur at the nape of his neck before awkwardly confessing, “Well, you seemed like you had something else on your mind.” It’s not untrue. When Seungmin had found him that evening in his den, the elemental had been distracted, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. Since then he’d relaxed, but Chan hasn’t forgotten the weird, tense expression on the other’s face that he’d briefly seen before the boy had wiped it away with a smile.

Apparently, Seungmin hasn’t forgotten either because he dips his head and murmurs, “Fair point.” Pressing himself closer to Chan’s side as they sidle through a thin path between the rocks, the elemental hums tunelessly under his breath for a long moment. “There’s something  _ distasteful _ lurking around the forge.” The way he says it is tight. Not worried, per-say, but cautious. “I’d much rather be here with you than  _ there _ with it.”

It takes a lot not to be distracted when the elemental weaves a hand through his long fur so he can lightly hold on, but somehow, Chan manages. “Something?” Distasteful things could come in almost any form; it hardly narrowed it down in any meaningful way. It leaves him wondering if Seungmin has a reason for being so vague. 

When the boy doesn’t elaborate on his own, Chan lets out a puff of air through his nose and prods, “Like… a human? Or something else?”

The tight twists of the rocks they’re creeping between widen out slightly, giving them room to breathe, but Seungmin stays where he is, his warmth radiating through Chan’s side like sunlight on a hot day. “Whatever it is, it’s unpleasant,” he mutters, his thin lips pressing together tightly. “And it’s Unnatural.”

Shocked, Chan fixes Seungmin with a serious expression, which is a bit difficult considering the position the other has insisted on taking. “Isn’t that something you should deal with?”  _ Unnatural _ might not mean anything serious, some beings were harmless, but Seungmin had described this presence as unpleasant. When it came to matters such as these, often times small issues became much bigger problems if left unchecked.

Seungmin, however, is unbothered. He just gives a little shrug. “Jisung said he could handle it.”

Perhaps it’s not his place, but Chan can’t help but dubiously ask, “And… that’s a good idea.”

The laugh is immediate, and Seungmin finally disentangles his hand from Chan’s fur so he can skip a bit ahead of the other before turning and flashing a wide, slightly crooked smile. “Of course it’s a terrible idea, this is Jisung we’re talking about,” Seungmin informs Chan, like it’s an inside joke that the elemental is letting him in on. “But he knows better than to  _ actually _ kill someone.”

“Oh,” is the only word Chan can find. “Well, as long as the problem gets dealt with.”

Brushing his bangs out of his eyes with a hand, Seungmin admits, “Chances are he’ll have made friends with whoever it is by the time I get back.”

“And if not?”

“If not,” Seungmin hums, lowering long lashes over fiery eyes. “I know a bit about dealing with interesting problems myself.”

Not for the first time, it occurs to Chan how dangerous the elemental is; how deadly he could prove to be if he chose. Not just to other threats, but to Chan himself. He’s been trying not to think about it, and he’s been purposefully ignoring Felix’s comment that leaving Seungmin alive means the elemental is  _ special, _ but it’s moments like this where those unwanted thoughts catch up to him.

This boy right here, with his soft lavender button-up and his captivating smile, could be the thing that kills Chan. And to make it all the more fitting, it probably wouldn’t take much effort on Seungmin’s part to do so. 

Catching fire, however, isn’t something Chan wants to consider too hard. Tonight there are other things to do, and if possible, he wants to distract Seungmin from his problem at the base of the mountain while he’s at it. So he pulls ahead of the elemental and steps out from the rocks before waving one elongated arm before him. “Here we are.”

Before them stretches a mostly flat plane of rock, that dips off into the horizon at its edges. The most defining feature of the area, however, is the water that rushes from a jagged mouth of rocks in the mountain, pools in a small pond, then tumbles off the edge into a small, yet glittering waterfall. When you looked out over it, you could make out the walls of the temple grounds, and the way the water rushed under and around the shrine, forming the natural streams that traveled through the area.

It’s the same stream that eventually branches off into Felix’s river, and Chan likes it, even though it’s a little closer to the temple than he’s usually willing to get.

Despite the lovely sight, Chan instantly feels the elemental beside him tense up as Seungmin peers out from behind his torso skeptically. “That’s a lot of water,” he observes, his words a little tight.

“There are bigger pools farther down the mountain,” Chan says, trying to figure out without asking why the boy is almost hiding behind him. “But this one is the highest up, and humans rarely make the climb up here, so usually it’s left alone.”

“I see,” Seungmin mutters, voice clipped.

Turning to glance at him at last, Chan is surprised to find a nervous look on the other’s face. For a moment, he’s confused. There’s no danger around, the night is completely at peace, and the only sound in the area is the rushing of the small waterfall. Of all the times for Seungmin to be worried, and Chan can think of any number of times where it would have been appropriate, this isn’t one of them.

“Are you okay?” he questions, sniffing the air a few times in the off chance that he’s missed some threat that the elemental has noticed.

Pursing his lips together, Seungmin’s fingers absently tug at the hem of his shirt. “Ah, I don’t…” He falls silent for a moment, before hunching his shoulders ever so slightly and admitting, “Water and I don’t get along.”

Puzzled, Chan tilts his head, before it hits him and he feels a wash of guilt. Of  _ course _ Seungmin wouldn’t like the water. He was a being literally composed of fire. Something like this would be dangerous to him, in the same way that the elemental’s fire posed a constant threat to Chan. Now that he’s made the connection, he can see that the expression on Seungmin’s face mirrors the emotions he had felt in the clearing, right after he’d been burned and had been terrified it was going to happen again.

Pawing at his muzzle, wishing he’d thought of this earlier, Chan awkwardly says, “You know I’m not going to throw you in or anything, right?”

“Well, yes, I know that,” Seungmin agrees, still looking uncertain.

Very carefully trying to coax the elemental out from the perceived safety of the rock formation, Chan continues, “And there are no water spirits around this particular pool, so nothing else is going to pull you in.”

Puffing out his cheeks, Seungmin fixes Chan with an unimpressed look. “Water can kill me if I’m in contact with it for too long.” He says it regretfully, like he knows it all too well. “I have reason to be worried.”

“You do realize  _ you _ could kill  _ me?” _ Chan points out, trying to work through his own reasoning even as he says it.

The expression he gets in return for his troubles is blank. “I’m obviously not going to,” the elemental informs him flatly.

“Well-” He’s trying very hard to make sense, but it’s a close battle. “Just because the water  _ can _ kill you doesn’t mean it’s going to.” Reaching out a paw, Chan beckons Seungmin forward, as mindfully as he can manage. “Trust me, it’s safe. And besides, I didn’t bring you out here for the water.”

Perhaps it’s his words. Perhaps it’s simply his tone. Whatever it is, Seungmin’s demeanor softens at last, and he makes a point of relaxing his shoulders before softly stepping forward and placing his small, human-like hand in Chan’s large taloned paw. It’s obvious he’s still not entirely comfortable, but he still lets Chan pull him further out onto the plateau, away from the shadow of the rock formation and into the moonlight.

“So,” Seungmin says, a slightly vulnerable air lingering about him as he glances about the mountain, keeping a tight hold of Chan’s fingers as he does. “If not to go swimming, why  _ are _ we here Chan?”

Caught in that unexpectedly open expression, Chan takes a moment to remember how to speak before saying in a rush, “The stars!”

Seungmin’s eyebrow shoots up.

Self-consciousness creeping over him at how silly that sounds, Chan hurries to explain, “The first time I met you, you said you always wanted to see the sky from up here, on the mountain. Which you already saw, from the clearing…” He really does sound like an idiot, he should have thought this through a little better. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s lovely from there. But, well…” Trailing off, he finally gives up on explaining himself eloquently in favor of gesturing above him with a large paw.

“It’s so much  _ more _ from up here.”

Slowly, Seungmin lifts his gaze to the sky, and his lips part in abject wonder.

Everything above them is lit up by a multitude of tiny dots of light, so bright that you could have counted them if you wanted. Unlike in the forest, where the trees came around to cut off the field of view, this flat, empty spot of mountain, with only the natural spring to keep them company, puts in place no such boundaries.

Here, everything is visible, from the moon above to the point where the sky meets the horizon. It’s a full, unobstructed view, and it’s with no small amount of satisfaction that Chan looks up at it, knowing that Seungmin would have never seen  _ anything _ that could compare.

“See?” Chan hums, his voice a rumble in the silence of the night. The moon reflects off his pelt, casting his usually frightening profile in soft, gentle color. “It’s great.”

Almost reverently, Seungmin breathes back, “It’s  _ wonderful.” _

“That’s why I wanted to show you,” Chan admits quietly. It’s a strange thought, that he wanted something like this so much with someone who could destroy him, but the honesty is easy like this.

He turns then, hoping to catch one of the elemental’s smiles, but what he finds instead makes something inside Chan stutter and stop working.

Seungmin’s skin  _ glows, _ his cheeks turning a pale gold under the reflection of the moon and the light of his eyes. His soft lips are parted in a look of awe, one that lights him up from the inside out. Everything about him is lax as he stares at the stars, at ease and entirely focused on the marvel above.

But Chan has forgotten the stars once again. Because when the elemental stands before him like this, with a thousand tiny lights dancing in his eyes and the smallest of smiles pulling at his mouth, he looks ethereal. Untouchable and beautiful in a way that nothing else has ever looked before. In that second, he realizes; while he could gaze up to the heavens and marvel at the beauty of it all, the only thing he wants to stare at is Seungmin.

The sky might be gorgeous, but Seungmin is like the sun, and Chan would rather be blinded than look away.

“You wanted to show  _ me _ this,” the elemental breathes with eyes that never leave the stars, almost like he’s confirming the information. Making sure that he hasn’t misunderstood or gotten something wrong.  _ “Me?” _

For a moment, Chan considers admitting that he doesn’t have anyone else  _ to _ show it to, but then it dawns on him: Even if he did have other beings to walk around with in the middle of the night, that doesn’t change the fact that he’d remembered this particular location and immediately thought of Seungmin. With anyone else, the sky would just be a pretty view. With the elemental, it means infinitely more.

So all Chan says is, “You.” And then Seungmin turns that parted-lip, wide-eyed stare on him, and he can’t help but add, “Only you.”

Chan can’t possibly understand the implications of those words in that second.

But he finds that it doesn’t matter, because he knows they’re true.

~o~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse the gross amount of lore. I have pages of the stuff at this point.
> 
> My chapter outlines are usually something along the line of (why Jisung is so Jisung) and the thing I end up with is detailed explanations of cryptid territorial behavioural patterns.
> 
> It really do be like that sometimes.


	3. Almost Human

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'know, it really says something that murder is easier to write than fluff. Not exactly sure what it says, but it definitely says something.
> 
> Thank you to norudeghosts for betaing~ They drip fed me [redacted] to motivate me and honestly, it worked.
> 
> Enjoy!

Chan isn’t great with sleep.

He’s never been good with it, as long as he can remember. Almost like a switch is stuck somewhere in his skull that doesn’t let him ever truly reach the point of unconsciousness. It’s definitely not that he doesn’t need sleep. Actually, at this point he thinks he  _ always _ needs sleep. But as these things often go, he has trouble turning that need into a reality. 

Maybe it’s something to do with his Unnatural biology, maybe it’s something to do with his brain. Maybe it’s something else entirely. Whatever it is, the results are stretches of days in a row where he gets little to no rest, apart from maybe a light doze that ends up interrupted by even the slightest sound outside his den.

He doesn’t have a good word for it, he just knows that he doesn’t enjoy it.

On one hand, he’s mostly adapted to the inconvenience of always being tired. He conserves his energy when possible, spends time with Felix if the days get particularly long, and takes sleep whenever it comes, whether it be in the middle of the night when he should be hunting, or half way through the daylight hours. 

On the other hand, he doesn’t like the whole song and dance. If he could sleep regularly, that would be nice.

Naturally whether or not he can  _ actually _ manage sleep never stops him from attempting. After all, you can’t get better at something if you don’t practice. That’s what Felix has repeatedly insisted, at any rate. And today is one of those days that he tests that theory yet again. Curled up in the back of his den, among the old bones and dried leaves, out of the sunlight that attempts to filter in through the cave entrance, Chan has his muzzle tucked under one large paw and is decidedly trying to sleep.

For once, it’s actually working. He’d spent the night before traipsing about the woods, hunting a particularly noisy human. It had gone well. The leftover remains of the unfortunate tourist are currently slumped against the wall of his den, hopefully to be finished later. With a meal in his stomach and a pleasant fatigue working through his muscles, he’s actually sleepy, and the gentle fingers of unconsciousness tug at his mind, pulling him deeper and deeper into the darkness of his den.

He’s so close to sleep. Seconds from it, in fact.

It’s strange, because as things begin to get hazy, he swears he sees a familiar figure step into his field of vision. Probably, he should jolt upright at the sight, but… he knows that lean frame and soft brown hair. Besides it’s through his half-closed eyes. Because it’s the middle of the day and the only time Seungmin shows up is at night, or close to it, this must be his imagination.

A dream, Chan decides, even though he’s only ever heard of them and in his whole life he can’t remember having one before. It must be, because the other option does a weird thing to his insides.

Impressive though, that it smells so powerfully like warmth and smoke, just like the elemental. And his footsteps sound precisely as Chan recalls, the exact pace and gait he’s become familiar with. He’s not sure  _ when _ he got so used to it, but that’s a question for when he’s more awake. Seungmin’s eyes even glow enough to light up his face, revealing a slight pout and furrowed brows. The expression is cute, not that Chan would ever tell the boy that. 

It’s definitely not something a creature like him should be thinking, even half asleep as he is.

While Chan watches through the crack of his eyelids, the elemental stares down at him for a long moment. Like he’s struggling to work something over in his head, his face twitches and his pout becomes a frown. It stays like that for a moment, putting the smallest of creases between his brows, but as the second stretch out, he lets out a long, slow exhale, and the furrow vanishes once more.

Expression loosening somewhat, and the tension going out of his shoulders, Seungmin unknots before Chan. Drawing a breath, he pushes at his brown hair, tucking it out of his face with a slender finger. When he pulls his arm away, there’s a gentle smile playing across his mouth. Not one of his grins, just a small twitch of his lips that belies a much more tender emotion. It’s a nice sight, he looks calm. Happy even.

It seems so real, it’s hard for Chan to remind himself that this is likely just a dream.

Because he wants to believe that the real Seungmin is relaxed around him too, not just this dream version of the boy. He’s pretty sure he’s never inspired that kind of emotion in anyone before, and he’s never particularly cared about this fact one way or another. But it’d be nice, he decides in that moment caught half-way between dream and sleep, if the elemental found him calming.

Something about being the reason for Seungmin’s smile sounds good to him.

Footsteps draw closer to Chan. In the cold of his cave he can practically feel the warmth spilling off of the elemental. Which is remarkably realistic; but he supposes he’s never had a dream before, so he’s not sure what to expect. As these thoughts swim loosely through his head, Seungmin lets out a soft puff of breath before slumping against the wall of the den and sliding down to rest on the floor.

Then the sensation of warmth becomes almost overpowering as weight falls against him. With little warning, Seungmin shifts forward and nestles himself into the crook of Chan’s body, against the white fur stained red from hunting. He ends up near enough to Chan’s face that he feels the boy brush against his ear as he settles. He does it calmly, like it’s second nature, like he has no qualms about being this close to a creature who can and has killed so many people in the past. 

It’s overwhelming.

For a moment, Chan’s not sure how to react, dream or no. He doesn’t think he’s ever been quite this  _ close _ to another being before. Not unless it’s a human and he’s in the process of separating their head from their shoulders. But… well, he isn’t doing that to Seungmin. Actually he doesn’t know  _ what _ to do with the elemental, not when he’s so close and his hair brushes against Chan’s skin and his warmth is spreading through the cave like a thick blanket.

Maybe he should push the other away? But… it isn’t real, right. And Seungmin is so tiny compared to his hulking mass, easily fitting into the space made by his body. So perhaps he doesn’t have to do  _ anything. _ Chan isn’t sure, his brain is too muddled to be of much help.

Seungmin lets out the smallest of sighs and curls closer.

It’s not… unpleasant. Quite the opposite, actually. He wants to stay like this, wants to let the world narrow down to this small cave and this peaceful moment. Even if it  _ is _ doing things to Chan’s head, clouding his thoughts and making him want to sink further into the scorching heat that emanates from the elemental’s body, he can’t bring himself to move. The instincts that usually tell him to rend and tear quiet around Seungmin, and he finds emotions he’s unused to welling up in the empty space left behind. Honestly, all he wants to do is sleep, while the dream lasts, comfortable beside the warmth of the other.

Unconsciousness pulls at him again and his lids slip closed. Without thinking, he curls tighter around the elemental, content. Seungmin lets out a soft hum of satisfaction, and weaves his fingers into Chan’s pelt. Each digit seems to sear its own place in his brain, where there are already the little groves in his mind that the elemental is wearing away.

The other’s touch really does feel real. Remarkably so…

Against him, Seungmin shifts slightly and presses his face into stained fur. It dawns on Chan at that moment, at once too soon and far too late.

_ Oh. _

Huh. Probably not a dream, then. 

He supposes he hadn’t wanted to sleep anyway…

Shaking himself from the threads of unconsciousness with no small effort, Chan shifts the paw from his muzzle and sleepily mumbles, “Seungmin?” His voice is still heavy and thick, but it prompts the elemental to stir from where he’s nested against the other’s chest.

“I woke you up,” the boy murmurs into Chan’s fur, his tone apologetic.

“No,” Chan tries to lie, only to realize that the falsehood is not only immediately apparent, but also a ridiculous thing to say. “Well, kind of, but it’s alright, I don’t mind.”

He’s trying not to focus on the fact that even though they’re both clearly awake, Seungmin has made no move to pull away or put distance between them. Which is hitting him a  _ lot _ harder now that he knows it’s real. The boy is so  _ small _ curled up against him, fragile and yet frightening. It’s hard to really get a look at the elemental’s face but he doesn’t really need to because he can  _ feel _ him, feel the way his fingers flex slightly in his white curls and feel the heat of his breath ghosting over leathery skin. Everything about this is gentle and calming, and he hadn’t really been prepared for it in the slightest.

Admittedly, part of him was always aware of that fact that he wasn’t dreaming because he  _ can’t _ dream, but it had been so much easier to pretend than wonder why this was so unbelievably comforting.

Thankfully for his state of mind, Seungmin pulls his face out of his fur, and Chan forces himself not to think too far past that. If he lets his mind wander any further, he’s probably going to end up down paths he isn’t ready for.

“You’ve tensed up,” the elemental tells him, his words  _ very _ close to Chan’s ear.

Now that it’s been brought to his attention, Chan realizes it’s true. At some point, he had gone from relaxed and sleepy to strung tight enough to snap. “Sorry,” is the only word that comes out of his mouth. He can’t think of anything else to say in response.

“Do you want me to move?”

Somehow, even though he’s the one speaking, Chan manages to surprise himself when a hurried, “No!” pops out of his mouth. Though he can’t  _ see _ Seungmin’s face, he can practically feel the raised eyebrow in the silence that stretches between them. “I mean,” he continues quickly, self-consciously scraping one of his antlers against the cave wall. “I don’t- If you want to move you can.”

He bites the tip of his tongue before he can add on another apology.

“Are you going to relax?” Seungmin asks skeptically. When Chan lets out a pathetic high pitched whine that echoes throughout his den, the elemental lets out a soft sigh and begins to sit up. “You’re uncomfortable.” He sounds like he’s entirely certain in his assessment, which can’t be because  _ Chan _ hasn’t figured out how he’s feeling yet. “I’ll sit somewhere else.”

It hits him then that perhaps Seungmin wants to see him relaxed, just like Chan likes to see the other calm in his presence. Considering how tense he is at that moment, it’s only natural that the elemental would assume the way to fix his discomfort would be to move. And Chan almost lets it happen, it’ll be much easier to think straight without Seungmin so incredibly  _ close. _

Except, if he’s being honest with himself, he wants the elemental to stay right where he is. The warmth is nice, and the feeling of someone willingly remaining so near to him is a good one. If he can just unwind a bit, he can enjoy this moment, instead of being terrified to breathe wrong.

Though it takes no small amount of effort, Chan inhales deeply and forces his bunched muscles to release. “Please stay,” he insists, in a small voice that’s almost lost to the cave around them. “I like you where you are.”

For a moment, Seungmin keeps moving, like he’s going to go elsewhere regardless, but then he pauses, and his own limbs go lax as he carefully settles himself back against Chan’s much larger form. “Okay,” he murmurers, and even though there’s a smile in his voice, there’s none of the usual dancing amusement. “I won’t go anywhere.” Which sounds like a decent plan. This assessment is only encouraged by the hand that finds its way into the tumble of curly fur atop his head.

Content to enjoy this for a moment, Chan just rumbles low in his chest and wraps a little tighter around Seungmin, trapping the smaller being against his own body. It’s like curling around a star, he thinks, as the warmth permeates every inch of his body. By rights, he should be ablaze right now, but it’s funny how these things happen.

As he continues to relax, lapsing back into the drifting daze he’d been in before, Chan softly mumbles, “You know, I thought you were a dream at first.” It seems a little silly now, with Seungmin’s curious fingers running up his antlers, blunt nails lightly scraping at the bone. This might all be very  _ real, _ but it’s still so foreign to him that he can understand his own mistake.

The elemental, for his part, lets out a bemused chuckle and nestles himself in Chan’s neck floof. “Do you often dream about me?” Absently, the hand running over the smooth surface of his antlers drifts down to play with one of his ragged ears. Seungmin’s fingers are light, but curious, and everywhere he touches feels like it’s been kissed by the sun itself.

Flustered despite himself and  _ completely _ unsure what to do about it, Chan thoughtlessly answers, “Well, I don’t dream.” Seungmin’s hands freeze, and the boy presses his face into the other’s fur. Which, incidentally, does nothing to hide his bright, surprised laughter.

Embarrassment only growing, Chan’s ear twitches several times under Seungmin’s hand as he resists the urge to paw at his muzzle. “What?” The question does  _ not _ come out as a whine.

Stifling his chuckles, Seungmin lets out a soft breath before resuming the careful exploration of Chan’s skin. “It’s nothing,” he reassures, voice sparkling with the laughter still lingering in his lungs. “You’re just remarkably honest.”

Though there isn’t any judgment in Seungmin’s words, Chan still huffs. Honest? Is that what he is? Maybe, but he thinks it’s more a case of never having anyone to lie to. Chan doesn’t do much talking with the humans he eats, and Felix, while mischievous, carries not a mite of ill-will in his leafy body. In his many long years of existing, he’s never had a reason to hide the truth.

It doesn’t help that Seungmin only has to smile to completely shut down his common sense.

The way the elemental specifically brings it up, however, leaves Chan wondering if perhaps he’s unusual in this way of thinking. “Is honesty… A bad thing?” he questions at last, turning a wide red eye on the brunet leaning against him.

There’s a long, pregnant pause as Seungmin stills once more. Chan hadn’t intended the question to be a difficult one, but then, he’s not great at predicting what questions are going to provoke a strange reaction from the elemental. Considering briefly the option of just dismissing his own query, Chan holds his tongue as the other shudders into animation once more, giving his ear an almost teasing tug.

“It’s not bad,” Seungmin assures him, his voice unexpectedly sincere. “It’s refreshing.”

Probably for the best. Chan’s not sure how to be  _ less _ honest. Satisfied with Seungmin’s answer, he settles once more, leaning imperceptibly into the other’s hand as it trails from his ear to the soft, baby hairs that curl around the base of his horns. As his fingers move, the elemental carefully untangles his shaggy pelt, pulling out bits of gore and bone as he does. Lazily, Chan watches the bits of debris be flicked across his den. He could tell Seungmin that he usually just bathes those out but… This is pleasant.

It never once comes to mind that Seungmin has no problem with the clear evidence of what Chan does when he’s not around.

Though just a few minutes ago he’d been tensed up and awkward, Chan can already feel his brain drifting off back towards unconsciousness. Which is baffling, seeing as he usually can’t sleep to save his life. What usually is an impossibility seems so simple right now, like all he has to do is close his eyes and he’ll be drifting in no time. It can’t possibly be that simple, but as Seungmin continues to fuss with his fur, Chan understands that sometimes it is.

At some point before true sleep catches up with him, unfortunately, it occurs to him that he’s being a bit rude. Seungmin is here, after all. And while it’s been happening more frequently, and logically he’s aware that the boy will come back, he still doesn’t want to waste this time he could be spending with the elemental. Even if they just end up sitting like this for several hours, he feels like it’s polite to be aware for it.

For once, staying awake requires actual effort. Blinking rapidly several times to rouse himself a bit, he gives himself a shake that momentarily dislodges Seungmin’s fingers from his fur. As the elemental lets out a sound of amusement before resuming his weird grooming, Chan casts around for something to talk about, before giving up and settling on the question he normally asks.

“So-”

Which is as far as he gets because almost instantly, he’s interrupted by Seungmin’s knowing hum of, “You’re going to ask why I’m here, aren’t you?”

Alright, maybe he’s gotten a bit predictable if the elemental can literally take the words out of his mouth. Twisting, he presses his muzzle into Seungmin’s side with a snort. Though the motion is gentle, it still pushes Seungmin back slightly. “I’m curious, okay?” Chan grumbles.

Delighted, the elemental lets out a giggle that echoes off the walls of the den before curling back around Chan in the comfortable embrace of familiar sound. Better still, it’s accompanied by almond eyes that curve up into twin crescent moons. “Oh yes,” Seungmin agrees, trying and  _ failing _ to put on a serious voice. “You’re always  _ very _ curious.”

Resolutely, Chan shoves his face further into the elemental’s torso, until the stray threads of his wool sweater tickle his nose and the scent of smoke and sunshine pervades every inch of his body. “Well  _ you’re _ always very interesting,” he complains, his voice slightly muffled by his position.

“Oh, am I now?” Seungmin’s smile has become a full blown smirk and his eyes seem to glow all the brighter.

In too deep already, Chan determinedly answers, “Yes.”

Lips parting, as if already preparing a retort, Seungmin stops short at his blatant admission. To be fair, Chan’s not sure why he’d said it either, but, he decides as he watches the elemental dip his head and puff out his cheeks slightly, it’s worth the embarrassment for this reaction. Again, he’s struck with the undeniable thought that Seungmin is  _ cute, _ and this time he’s conscious enough that he has to physically shake the offending idea away.

Glancing off at the entrance of the cave, Seungmin gives an inscrutable smile. “I take it you’re never going to accept the answer that I’m just coming to see you.”

For a moment, he’s stunned at the elemental’s words. It’s… Well it’s exactly the sort of thing Chan doesn’t dare believe. Seungmin coming to see  _ him? _ Alright, the other has been making the trip up the mountain quite often, and always seems to find the time to drop by to say hello. And yes they’re currently huddled up together in the back of Chan’s den, practically on top of one another, but-

The elemental is just teasing him. There have to be other reasons, and Chan isn’t sure it’s right to be so selfish as to claim all this for himself. No matter how much he wants to.

Awkwardly, he mumbles, “That’s a very nice thing to say.”

As though he can hear the things running through his mind, Seungmin gives a rueful sigh. “But…?” Which, in Chan’s mind, confirms his suspicions that the elemental had only been deflecting before.

Looking down at his paws, he huffs. “You looked upset when you walked in.”

He can understand what Seungmin had been talking about earlier. It’s immediately apparent when they other tenses up, considering how close together they are. “So you  _ were _ awake.” The elemental’s voice has a playful lilt to it, completely at odds with his body language. “And here I was feeling guilty for waking you up.”

The words hang between them heavily. Chan shuffles his paws, clicking his talons against the cavern floor.

He knows Seungmin is purposefully side-tracking, trying to push the conversation elsewhere. They both know it, which is probably why it’s not working quite right. As ever, it’d be much easier to just give in, let the topic drift on to other things if only so the boy will relax again. After all, if Seungmin doesn’t want to talk about it, where’s the point in pushing? 

Except, Chan considers, some things are less troubling once they’re out in the open. Even if it turns out he can’t actually do anything, sometimes talking helps. And… he can’t say that he  _ doesn’t _ want to know what’s bothering the elemental.

“It’s nothing to worry about-”

“Is everything okay-”

Both of them fall silent simultaneously. For a moment, the air thickens around them to the point of being stifling, and Chan’s sure he’s overstepped his bounds, but a moment later, the starch in Seungmin’s spine goes out and he melts back against blood-stained fur with a defeated sigh. 

“Sometimes, I have no idea what to do with Jisung,” he mumbles ruefully.

“Did… Something bad happen?” Chan questions, distinctly glad that the other is choosing to open up instead of shut down.

The elemental shifts, and one of his hands distractedly finds the fluff of Chan’s neck once more. “No,” he admits, his tone careful. “Not yet, at any rate.” 

It’s not the most reassuring way of putting it. “Not yet?”

“Do you remember that Unnatural being I mentioned a while ago?” As he speaks, the boy once again begins untangling the loose white curls, carefully tugging out the snarls before stroking fingers through them absently.

Holding back a pleased rumble at the soothing sensation, Chan leans into Seungmin’s hand, trying to the best of his ability to keep focused on what’s being said. “I remember.” Thinking back to that night, which admittedly he’s only thought about in the context of star gazing with Seungmin until dawn began to break over the horizon, Chan slowly recounts, “You called its presence unpleasant.”

“And do you recall me mentioning that Jisung was going to deal with them?” Seungmin mutters wearily.

Chan winces. “I take it he didn’t deal with them.”

“Apparently the being is friendly,” Seungmin informs him, his tone making it abundantly clear that he’s unconvinced. “According to Jisung, there’s absolutely  _ nothing wrong _ with this person and I shouldn’t be worried at all.”

“Friendly?” Chan can’t help but agree with the elemental’s skepticism. “I don’t mean to assume, but you don’t exactly sound as though you like them. And for another Unnatural to just wander into your territory, even if you two aren’t territorial…” Trailing off, he wrinkles his muzzle. It doesn’t sit well with him, but maybe those are just his instincts showing through.

“Honestly, I’m not even sure he  _ is _ Unnatural,” Seungmin admits, puffing out a breath. Tugging on Chan’s fur thoughtlessly, he continues, “He looks like a  _ human, _ from what I saw. He’s generally human shaped, he’s got the right number of limbs and eyes. He even speaks in the local human language. But…”

“There are lots of Unnatural creatures that look like mortals,” Chan finishes easily. The elemental absently playing with his fur is a perfect example. Tilting his head to the side he rests his large head on his paws so he can stare up at the other as they speak. 

Like this, he can clearly see the grimace that pulls at Seungmin’s mouth. “Unfortunately.”

He can’t quite put it into words, but Seungmin’s clear discomfort over the situation leaves him feeling unsettled as well. Baring his elongated teeth with a curl of his upper lip, Chan stoutly says, “I’d just deal with the creature if he shows up again.” By his tone it’s obvious what he’s suggesting. “There’s no point in letting it stick around any longer than necessary.”

“Usually I’d agree with you, but…” The elemental lets out a long-suffering sigh.  _ “You _ try telling Jisung you threw his new friend into a furnace.” He pauses.  _ “Again.” _

The bluntness surprises Chan, and though it’s hardly situationally appropriate, he finds a rumble of a laugh bubbling up in his throat. Somehow he finds the concept of the soft Seungmin killing creatures with the same ease he does… Amusing, and entirely incongruous with the gentle boy he’s getting to know. Even though he knows how dangerous the other can be, there’s a certain amount of cognitive dissonance to the whole thing that he just finds  _ funny. _ Gratifyingly, the elemental joins in his laughter a second later, his small chuckle bright like the rays of sunshine peeking through the mouth of the den. 

“If it turns out you’re correct and he  _ is _ Unnatural, it’d be the safest course of action,” Chan points out, once he has his vocal cords properly back under control.

Dipping his head Seungmin stares at his knees, which he’s pulled up to his chest. In the process, soft brown hair falls forward, obscuring his glowing eyes. “I’ve never been wrong about someone’s aura before. Maybe I haven’t had many chances to find the exception to that rule, but I trust my instincts.” As he speaks, his lips twitch up into a smile. “After all, they were right about you.”

For a moment, the powerful urge to touch Seungmin’s hair and brush it from his face comes over Chan. Thankfully, before he can move, the confusion at his own thoughts swells up and stops him in his tracks. Ears twitching rapidly, flustered even though he hadn’t moved, Chan gives the floor a hard stare. “Well I’m very clearly Unnatural.”

“That wasn’t-” Seungmin stops himself before he can finish the sentence, but doesn’t bother to stop the helpless laughter that spills from him. His whole body shakes with the force of it, and whatever residual stress had been lingering around him fades away. “Yes Chan,” he agrees breathlessly, going boneless and falling sideways and into the crook of Chan’s body once again. His whole face glows as his eyes curve up into delighted crescent moons. “You’re definitely not human shaped in the slightest.”

“I don’t think I’d be much good with a human body anyway,” Chan says decisively, glancing over at the corpse that’s still slumped against the cave wall. “Their arms are so short, and their feet get no traction.” Disapprovingly, he clicks his canines against each other. “Completely useless.”

Seungmin snorts. A moment later, Chan realizes who he’s talking to and paws at his muzzle in embarrassment. Comfortingly, the elemental gives one of his haunches a few pats. “I know what you mean, but it’s just a difference in what you need to survive versus what they need. You’re built to handle the mountain. Humans are generally shaped for less wild environments.”

Remembering Seungmin mentioning how elementals could choose their form, Chan can’t help but ask, “If you lived up on the mountain, would you decide to look different?”

The other’s innocent quip is instant. “You don’t like the form I have?”

Chan flounders for a moment in the face of Seungmin’s raised brow and angelic smile. That  _ hadn’t _ been what he was asking, and he doubts the other is being serious, but now that the question has been asked, he can’t help himself from thinking it over. For a moment, he tries to imagine Seungmin looking different. Maybe in a shape like his, or like a flickering flame, or perhaps something beyond his limited imagination. While it wouldn’t technically be a different being, he’s so accustomed to the elemental’s soft human shape that anything else would be strange.

And… Perhaps he’d miss Seungmin’s smile.

“I do like it,” he admits at last, his voice small. “You look…” Warm? Cute? Brighter than the sun?

_ Beautiful? _

“Nice,” he finishes hastily, quickly flicking dark red eyes away from Seungmin’s face before the boy can read the unspoken words in his gaze.  _ “Very _ nice.”

“Nice…” the elemental repeats, his tone soft.

Risking a glance over in Seungmin’s direction, Chan finds the strangest look on his face. His lips are slightly parted, his eyebrows are hidden somewhere under his bangs, and his cheeks are  _ glowing, _ turning his skin almost bluish like they’re being lit from within. If this wasn’t worrying enough, it’s accompanied by the elemental’s body temperature spiking, to the point where catching on fire is a genuine concern. Suddenly worried that he’s said something horribly wrong, Chan struggles to sit upright and give the other space as he hurriedly says, “I mean that in a good way! Nice as in you look very, ah-” He’s flailing, he really should shut up. “You- Your form is very pleasing. And I like it.”

“Thank you.” Those two words from Seungmin are enough to quiet him. Blinking at him with owlish nervousness, Chan tucks his paws under him and waits to be laughed at, but it never happens. Instead, the elemental just smiles at him, cheeks still bright, eyes sparkling like the sun. Somehow, that tender expression has him captivated, and honestly, Chan doesn’t think he wants to get away.

When Seungmin reaches for him, he does absolutely nothing to resist as the other catches two careful handfuls of white neck fur and pulls him back down.

“You know,” Chan mumbles as he settles, back among the bones scattered along the back of his cave. “You can always come talk to me if something happens.” The words sound ungainly coming out of his mouth, but he presses on, hoping the sincerity outweighs his awkwardness. “I’m generally around, and… Well, I might not be able to  _ help, _ but I’ll always listen.”

“Even if it’s something stupid?” The smile in Seungmin’s voice is almost as powerful as the sight of the thing itself.

“If it’s bothering you, I don’t think it’s stupid,” Chan points out.

The elemental chuckles. “Even if you’re sleeping?”

Chan puffs out a breath. “Well, obviously I’d prefer it were when I’m awake, but-” His words die in his throat as Seungmin pats his muzzle before lying down, using one of his arms as a pillow as he does.

“It’s alright. If you’re sleeping, I’ll just do this,” Seungmin reasons, his eyes glittering mischievously as he curls closer, pressing his nose into Chan’s fur. “It works almost as well as talking.”

Flustered, all Chan can think to say is, “Good,” before resolutely putting his own head down on his other paw. “Because I like it when you’re happy.”

Another chuckle. “Go back to sleep Chan.”

And while he doesn’t know if he can manage that much, Chan definitely does relax, because he’s got Seungmin curled up next to him, and he realizes in that moment that there isn’t much else he could want.

~ ・~

Felix gasps delightedly, his silvery eyes going wide. “You’ve gone  _ soft _ for him!”

“It’s not like that,” Chan insists, looking up from his task of  _ finally _ washing the dried gore out of his curly fur. “I just like spending time with him.” He’s not even sure anymore which of them he’s trying to lie to. Felix, or himself. 

Scoffing, the dryad waves a dismissive twiggy hand. “You like hanging out with me, but I’ve yet to see you get that same look in your eyes that you do when you talk about Seungmin.”

“He isn’t special,” Chan mumbles, but this isn’t a battle he’s prepared to fight. The realization is a mildly terrifying one, but somewhere along the line, the elemental has become  _ incredibly _ special. And honestly, he not only has no idea what that entails, but he isn’t sure if he’s ready to handle it even if he did know.

_ “Sure _ he isn’t,” is all Felix says in response, which makes his thoughts on the matter abundantly clear.

“Felix-”

“Just say it Chan,” the dryad prods. “Admit that he’s special. I want to  _ hear _ you say it.”

It’s on the tip of his tongue, but when he opens his mouth, the words die before they can escape him.

Maybe Seungmin  _ is _ special, but at the end of the day, Chan isn’t. He’s just a monster Seungmin met in the woods. He can say with at least some confidence that they’re slowly becoming friends, but… Calling Seungmin  _ special _ implies a lot. Including the stupid hope that the elemental might think of him in the same way, something Chan knows isn’t going to happen. If he puts voice to how he thinks of the other, it’ll be real.

He doesn’t think he’s ready to face the knowledge that to Seungmin, he doesn’t mean much at all.

Watching the blood from his pelt run down stream, Chan finally mutters, “Look, it doesn’t matter one way or another.”

Kicking water in Chan’s direction, Felix sighs. “You’re clueless.”

It’s funny, he’s pretty sure Seungmin would say the same thing.

~ ・~

“You’re pouting.”

“No.”

“Yes you are,” Seungmin prods back.

“I am  _ not.” _ Huffing, Chan stares accusingly at the lights and sounds coming in waves from around the temple. He  _ isn’t _ pouting, he’s fine. Mostly. He’s pretty sure he slept the night before. The moon is full, glowing against the cloudless sky. And, as an added bonus, it had rained the day before, so everything smells vaguely fresh. It’s a pleasing smell, full of life and fresh earth and it dampens the _ horrible stench of human _ that’s been wafting from the temple for two days now and,  _ alright fine. _ Maybe he’s feeling a little put out.

“It’s just… what are they even  _ doing _ over there?”

There’s a soft thump as Seungmin plants himself down on the flat rock beside Chan. Tucking his feet underneath him in a familiar cross-legged position, he wisely says, “Human things, I’d assume.”

Unimpressed, Chan crouches down on the mossy roots and stares out glumly at the lights. Usually, the temple’s presence is more a mental one than a physical one. Obviously he knows where it is, and can, at certain points in his territory, actually see the thing, but it’s generally unobtrusive. He stays far enough away that it’s only a tickle at the back of his head, and in return, he can mostly pretend it doesn’t exist.

But during certain times of year, ones that seem to come and go with little to no warning, large numbers of humans decide to make the trek up the mountain all at once to congregate, and Chan  _ dislikes it immensely. _ Not only is it unnaturally loud, destroying the ambiance of the forest, but with it comes the added risk of exposure that he doesn’t normally have to deal with. Humans thoughtlessly wandering over his mountain without a care in the world, making a mess of things and generally being a nuisance. 

Which normally would just mean an easier time hunting, but… It became difficult when they traveled in groups, and at least pretended to care when one of their number let out a scream.

Plus, Seungmin is here. Hunting would be rude, and he’s pretty sure the elemental doesn’t want to see something like that.

Logically, he knows that Seungmin knows that he eats people. But it’s one thing to know, and quite another thing to see.

From somewhere off amid the lights that destroy the perfect darkness of night, there’s a burst of music, followed by a swell of shouting. “Why do human things have to be so loud?” Chan questions, his left ear twitching reflexively.

Amused, Seungmin lets out a soft giggle. “You ask me like  _ I’m _ supposed to know.”

“You look almost completely human,” Chan points out reasonably, giving the elemental a sideways glance. “Which means you’ve probably spent more time with them than I have. If you wanted to, you could probably go down there and fit in.”

His words are answered by a hum, and a distant expression replaces Seungmin’s usual little smile. “Maybe,” he agrees, playing with the sleeves of his baby-blue sweater like he needs something to do with his hands. “Though I think you give me too much credit.”

As he moves, the collar of the sweater slips, and Chan finds himself staring at faded marks that mar Seungmin’s skin. The elemental makes no move to cover them back up, like he either doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care. It takes Chan a moment to identify them, but once the realization hits, his insides clench. Those lines are unmistakably claw marks,  _ his _ claw marks, no doubt from their first meeting in the clearing.

It’s a reminder. Of what, he isn’t entirely sure.

“You’re certainly more human than I am,” Chan says softly, trying to swallow back the guilt that brings up a bad taste in his throat.

“Only on the outside,” Seungmin informs him as he turns, catching the other in the captivating inferno of his fiery eyes. There’s a note of something somber in his voice, like this conversation is dipping into waters he doesn’t want to go near. “I might as well be a monster to everyone down there.”

Chan wants to respond, but when he opens his mouth, he finds himself at a loss for words.

He doesn’t think the other is a monster, not on the outside and  _ especially _ not on the inside. Definitely not when compared to him, a creature whose entire existence is defined by how beastly he is. Lifting his left paw into the air, examining the knobbly digits and talons that gleam in the moon, he pictures the blood that often drenches them, and he has to hold back a rumbling sigh. In the ways that seem to matter most, he and the elemental couldn’t be more different.

But he can still understand what Seungmin is saying. To the people down there, all happy within the walls and protective energies of the shrine, the two of them are the same. Both are Unnatural beings, both lack the same ideas of morality that bind humanity together. Neither of them fit into the narrow molds of the Natural world.

They will forever exist outside of it.

Which… Doesn’t bother Chan as much as it once did. But by the expression on Seungmin’s face, the boy doesn’t see it in quite the same way.

“When did you realize, Seungmin?”

Furrowing his brows, the elemental asks, “When did I realize what? That I wasn’t human?”

Realizing how badly he’d worded his query, Chan twitches his muzzle and dips his head. “No, I mean… When did you realize you were  _ you.” _ Though that doesn’t sound much better, it’s the only way he knows how to ask the question.

Unfortunately, all he gets from Seungmin is a baffled shake of his head. “I’m… not sure I follow. I’ve always known I’m  _ me.” _

“Well, yes,” Chan agrees, before letting out a frustrated sound escape through his snout. “I’m not asking this correctly.” From the corner of his eye, he can see the elemental’s face briefly soften into a small, stifled chuckle. It’s better than the melancholy that had hung around him before. Which means if nothing else, at least Chan has distracted him.

Slowly, the boy guesses, “Are you asking about when I realized I was an elemental?” It’s close enough. Chan quickly dips his muzzle in a  _ yes. _ Letting out another chuckle, Seungmin reaches out a hand half-covered with baby-blue sweater to pat one of Chan’s haunches. He tries not to react to the touch, at this point he’s more used to it than not, but the warmth and closeness still trips the synapses in his brain for a moment.

Gathering his thoughts quickly, before Seungmin catches his reaction, Chan settles down and focuses on the comfort of the contact rather than all of the other things he’s trying to ignore. “If you did have  _ a moment,” _ he says, in an attempt to be helpful. “You’d probably remember it.”

Chan’s words bring a thoughtful look to Seungmin’s face. Humming softly, he admits, “Honestly, I don’t have anything  _ to _ remember. I guess I’ve always known I’m an elemental.” As he trails his fingers through the courser hair of Chan’s haunch, his eyes drift off into the middle distance once again. “It’s not something that anyone  _ told _ me, just like no one told me I was Unnatural. Still, for me it was one of those things I was just aware of.”

It isn’t what he’d expected. For a being as human appearing as Seungmin, surely there came a point where that clashed with his Unnaturalness, but… Chan doesn’t pry. Perhaps he’s looking at this too hard. “It must be different for everyone then,” he reasons at last.

Gaze wandering from Seungmin, Chan lets his mind drift away from those questions he has before one of them pops out of his mouth without permission. Absently, he stares into the blinking lights of the temple that glitter above the treetops. They’re so bright, they almost entirely obscure the view of the stars above. Even the moon seems to pale in comparison. Amazing how such small, fragile life forms could so entirely change the visual landscape of something as vast as the mountain, and the sky above.

Frustration begins to well up once more, and he scrapes at the roots of the tree beside him in an attempt to alleviate the mental pressure of the shrine.

“Did you have a moment?” Seungmin’s voice abruptly pulls him out of his thoughts, and for a moment, Chan forgets their earlier conversation entirely as he stares like a startled deer at the elemental. With much more patience than he likely deserves, the boy’s lips quirk up in amusement before he prods, “You know, when you realized you were whatever you are?”

“The humans call me a Chanling,” Chan mutters as the irritating humming in the back of his mind quiets down.

Seungmin tips his head to the side. “Did you call yourself that?”

“No.” Picking at the loose dirt near his paws, Chan thinks back, to the earliest moments he remembers being himself. It’s difficult to separate one year from another, without much to define his life it all sort of fades together into one monotonous blur of hunting and eating with some sleep thrown in there for good measure. But something as important as who he is… Thankfully it’s a bit easier to pull this from the depths of his mind.

Tipping his head back, he scrapes his antlers against the nearby trees. “I didn’t have a name for myself when I first remember existing. I was just  _ me. _ I never knew there was a name for what I was but it didn’t really matter. And when I did finally pick up on them calling me a Chanling, I just kind of accepted that too.”

“Was that moment of acceptance something special for you?” Seungmin asks curiously.

“Not really,” Chan mumbles. “I mean, I kind of gave myself the name Chan, and moved on with my life. I didn’t really have a moment where I understood what I was until later.” It’s the first time he’s brought this up, he’s not even entirely sure he’s wording it correctly. But still, something in him wants Seungmin to know, even if the elemental is the type to keep his own secrets close to his chest.

It’s difficult to say aloud,  _ there’s a difference between you and I. _ Even though part of Chan wishes he could ignore that difference forever, it almost feels like he’s lying to Seungmin when he sits here on his tree roots and stays still and peaceful. Especially when it’s a constant struggle with his instincts to keep from howling at the humans below and trying to find the ones that wander too far from the safety of the shrine to gorge himself on.

Focusing on his talons, only slightly marred with mud and not a drop of the familiar red of human blood, Chan resolutely continues, “I honestly just thought of myself as another animal of the woods. I look similar to some of them, just bigger.” As he speaks, he twitches his ears and wrinkles his muzzle. “Obviously I don’t look exactly like any of them, and I knew I was Unnatural, but… I didn’t think about that too hard. It’s not exactly an easy question to ask.”

“But eventually, you had to wonder, right?” Seungmin reasons. His head falls against Chan’s emaciated side and it’s warm, hot enough to cut through the relative chill of the night and send heat trailing through the other’s nerve-ends.

“Not really,” Chan admits. “I was fine with blissful ignorance. I was Chan, knowing that was plenty.”

It’s strange, how easy Seungmin makes this. He should probably be more nervous, but he can’t quite bring himself to be. Not with the other so close, sharing the same air and existing within the same space. His eyes fall to the sweater-paw that’s still firmly placed on his haunch, and he wonders, if his own hand was a little smaller, he could hold it.

What a ridiculous notion.

“Eventually, someone confronted me with what I really was.” Even the memory is enough to make his hackles rise. “In my defense, he should have known not to wander through my territory. I think he was the shrine keeper. He  _ reeked _ of the temple, and I was hungry.” Glancing up at the sky, and at the few stubborn stars that clung to her blanket despite the harsh lights of the temple, Chan softly says, “He didn’t scream, didn’t even really try to run. Instead he looked at me with milky white eyes and spoke in a language I could understand.”

Seungmin’s voice is just as quiet. “What did he say?”

“He called me a monster,” Chan says, tone surprisingly light. “It was the first time someone had ever called me that. I’d never thought of myself as one, I was just following instincts, like the humans do. Like the animals do.” Retrospectively, he realizes how ridiculous he’d been for thinking like that, but solitude and exactly  _ one _ other being to bounce ideas off of did that to you. 

“I’d always just thought of myself as  _ Chan. _ But that’s when I realized other people saw something different.”

Between them, the sound of humans doing god-knows-what fills the silence. When Chan takes a breath, he catches their scents on the scant breeze, no doubt from the ones that have wandered beyond their walls of safety. Instead of reacting, he focuses on Seungmin’s warmth, and distantly wonders why the boy hasn’t moved an inch.

“Do you see it like that now?” Perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised by the utter lack of judgment in the elemental’s voice, but he still is.

Awkwardly, Chan shifts. “Well, yes. I do.” It’s not guilt but instead a tired acceptance that hangs heavily in his words. “He wasn’t wrong, I am a monster.”

“Maybe.” Coming up off the ground, Seungmin pulls his hand away from Chan. He mourns the loss of contact, before remembering that he expected this. What else is the elemental going to do in response to the creature beside him repeatedly calling himself a monster. Stay? Chan’s eyes stay glued to the ground, to the moss under his talons and the roots that bear the scratch marks of his stress. Part of him wants to look up at Seungmin, the rest of him knows that he’s too afraid of what he’ll find.

“You keep talking about being a monster like it’s a bad thing.” 

The cycle of negative thoughts in his head is jarred out of place. Confusion muffles some of the raw emotion clouding his mind. “Isn’t it?”

There’s a soft chuckle, and Seungmin’s footsteps stop before him. Before Chan can question what’s happening, two small warm hands worm their way into the fur on his chin before they gently lift his muzzle up. “Not necessarily.” Instantly, he’s transfixed. Seungmin’s eyes are glowing in the darkness, and his expression is unbearably understanding. Like he knows what’s running through Chan’s head, knows about all the blood that’s stained his claws, and doesn’t judge him for a bit of it. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being what you are.”

This close, he thinks his heart is catching in his throat. “It makes me different from you.”

He’s said it. Like all the other things that escape his mouth before he can think, there’s no taking the words back.

And like always, Seungmin’s response surprises him.

“What do you think  _ I _ am Chan?”

“You’re an elemental,” he instantly says. When the boy simply blinks at him, Chan adds, “You’re Seungmin,” as if saying that is tantamount to admitting the other is special. In his mind, the two words might as well be synonymous.

“I am,” Seungmin agrees at last, long lashes falling over glowing orange eyes. “But I’m also Unnatural.” It takes a moment for Chan to register what that means, but when he takes in the elemental’s serious expression, he thinks that he begins to understand. “I’m a monster, just like you.”

“You aren’t like me,” Chan whispers.

Seungmin’s eyes curve up into half moons. “For all you know, I could be something much worse.”

From any other creature, it would have been such a shallow statement. From the elemental, Chan can’t help but trust it entirely. And perhaps that’s because it’s what he wants to hear. Maybe it’s because he desperately doesn’t want to be the only one in a world where everyone else sees him as a beast at best and a nightmare at worst. But he believes Seungmin when he says that he’s a monster too, and for the first time in a long time, Chan doesn’t feel so alone.

Dragging a gentle thumb over Chan’s leathery skin, the elemental breathes, “Let me see the monster.”

“What do you-” His words are cut short by Seungmin’s smile, so bright. Slightly crooked. Endlessly perfect. Like injecting sunlight directly into his bloodstream. It has about the same effect, he thinks. Blazing heat, and the distinct realization that he’s as mortal as every other human he’s killed.

“Let me hunt with you,” Seungmin says, his voice soft and reasonable. “There are hundreds of humans around tonight, and dozens who have wandered away from the shrine.” Chan wants to fall into the warmth of that expression. Wants nothing more than to burn forever in the star that is the boy before him. “Show me who you are Chan,” the elemental insists. “I’m not going to run away.”

Chan doesn’t have to think, his answer is immediate.

“Okay.”

~ ・~

In all his years of hunting, he’s never felt anything quite like this.

Ahead of him, Chan can see Seungmin’s light, wavering through the trees. Though the dark cloaks them both, his eyes register the faint light of the moon, and his nose picks up the trail of warmth that the elemental leaves in his wake. It’s such a strange feeling, working together with someone. Following Seungmin, not with the intent to kill, but with the intent to aid.

To kill together.

He’s still not sure if this is real, but he’s convinced it’s not a dream, so that doesn’t leave many other options.

As they move through the trees, Chan’s massive, hulking form almost melds with the massive trunks. He keeps himself low, blending with the forest floor with a skill that doesn’t seem possible for a creature of his size. It’s as if the night itself forms into something tangible which clings to his fur, masking him from all but the most keen eye.

By comparison, Seungmin is abundantly obvious. Sneakered feet crunch over leaves and twigs as he advances. Every now and then his finger will leap to light, giving him a more clear look at the path ahead. Each time this happens, Chan makes a point of looking away, in an attempt to avoid any after image that might try to imprint itself on his sensitive retinas. If anyone were to look their way, they’d probably see the elemental, with his baby blue sweater and loud footsteps, but that’s the idea.

Seungmin is  _ trying _ to draw attention.

The sounds of the temple are close by, much nearer than Chan would have liked. But he trusts the boy that leads the way. He’s made it clear how little he likes the temple, Seungmin isn’t going to lead him into it on purpose. Which is another strange thought, that someone else is looking out for his well-being. But he’s trying not to think about it too hard. There’s only so much he can focus on at one time.

Right now, every piece of his consciousness is being poured into his senses. To his eyes, ears and nose. Right now, what he sees is the elemental, who is climbing with as much stealth as he can manage up a small outcropping of rock that sticks through the forest trees. Twitching his ears, Chan parses out the sounds that flow through his brain. There’s the shrine, and the music and people within it, but past that… Yes, there are humans around. Close. At least a few.

Nearing Seungmin quickly, he effortlessly lifts the boy up the small ledge before smoothly leaping up beside him. Leaning close, he whispers in a low rumble, “There are several close by.”

“Perfect,” the elemental breathes in response. There’s no need to question what he speaks of, it’s obvious. “This should be easy. Which direction are they?”

Lifting his nose to the faint breeze, Chan lets his mouth hang open slightly as he inhales deeply. To their back, there’s a small group of scents. Maybe five people. Disregarding that, he tilts his head a different way. Closer to the shrine, there are two scents. That’s tempting, but… too close to the unpleasant presence of the temple, so he passes this by as well.

His third breath brings something more promising. Extending one taloned paw, he gestures ahead of them. “One human, not far from here. If you can lure it-”

Seungmin quiets his words with a soft smile that thinly veils a strange sort of excitement that fills his eyes. “Don’t worry.” And Chan doesn’t, even though a voice at the back of his head is telling him he probably should be a little more concerned than he is. “Just follow me. I need to know you’re behind me.”

“Always,” Chan says instantly, without any thought at all.

Breaking out into a wide, crooked grin, Seungmin briefly lifts a hand and ghosts soft fingers over Chan’s muzzle, before turning and delving deeper into the darkness of the forest. For a moment, Chan is left staring as his brain struggles to catch up. There’s something strange coursing through him, part adrenaline, part something he can’t define. But he knows it swells every time the elemental touches him.

If the boy had set him on fire, Chan would have gladly burned.

Shaking himself, he finally remembers what he’s supposed to be doing and lopes off, following after the elemental.

As they get closer to the scent of the human, Chan wrinkles his snout and his hackles shiver as they rise. He fears nothing from this human, there’s nothing something like it could do to something like him. But with Seungmin going before him, the dynamic changes. He doesn’t know if a human can hurt an elemental, and he’s not exactly eager to find out. Though, if everything goes to plan, there will be nothing to worry about.

At a certain point, the elemental veers off, breaking left, giving the human a wide berth. Watching this, Chan crouches, waiting. The human is close enough that he can hear it, hear the crutching footfalls of someone who doesn’t think they have anything to fear. That won’t last long, but he still takes the moment to enjoy the irony.

Natural creatures never understand danger soon enough.

Closing his eyes, Chan melts into the shadows of a large yew tree and waits. He can hear Seungmin’s footsteps, softer than those of the human’s. Focusing on these, Chan finds his breathing leveling to match them, following the steady pattern of the elemental’s movement through the trees. There’s something calming about it. Even in the midst of thundering adrenaline that threatens to overwhelm his common sense and trigger the instincts that batter at his head, Seungmin’s proximity takes that energy and helps him control it.

He waits. A heartbeat. Another.

Silence, then-

Seungmin’s voice, letting out a panicked string of words in a human language he doesn’t understand.

It’s not a grin that stretches Chan’s face, rather, a horrid display of glistening, vicious fangs.

Swiftly, he crosses the distance, till he’s within sight of the human, and, as he’d expected, Seungmin. The elemental is holding his neck like he’s hurt, his head is slightly bowed, hiding the obvious glow of his eyes. Even to Chan, his posture looks vulnerable, like that of a wounded creature, one who needs assistance. The human, an average looking human male, obviously is taking the bait.

A flashlight shines over Seungmin, reflecting off of his pale skin and light sweater. Quickly the human responds in the same foreign language, his words just as hurried and frightened. As the human draws closer to the elemental, Seungmin steps back, and points with his free hand into the depths of the forest.

Even though Chan can’t understand what Seungmin is saying, the fear in his voice is surprisingly real; entirely convincing even though he expressly knows better. While he watches, the elemental gestures more frantically, and draws further into the deep shadows of the trees. With the flashlight shining on him, his eyes look almost normal, and he seems to use this to his advantage, staring up at the human with a desperate, pleading gaze. 

And like a charm, the human follows.

Hardly more than a shadow, Chan creeps after them. Seungmin leads the man deeper into the woods, babbling in a human language the whole way. If he’d had more of his normal faculties around him, Chan might have asked questions, but he doesn’t, so he accepts the other’s grasp of Human and keeps going. Ahead, he knows, is the clearing he first met the elemental in. There’s something so fitting about returning to it, if he’d been so inclined, he would have smiled.

As it is, his whole mind has narrowed. Down to this moment, down to the hunt.

Reaching the empty clearing, Seungmin finally stops. When the human slows down as well, Chan stops, lurking just beyond the tree line. Waiting for a signal, waiting for  _ something. _

The human asks a question. When the elemental doesn’t answer, it’s repeated, louder and more forcefully. He’s entirely within the clearing now, under the light of the moon, in almost the same place that Seungmin had once stood.

It’s so entirely familiar that it’s like deja-vu.

Ever so slowly, Seungmin’s hand slips from his neck and he straightens, before a light, delighted laugh spills from his lips. As the human’s voice stutters and stops in his throat, he takes a hurried step back, away from the elemental. But it’s so far past  _ too late _ that Chan understands why the other is laughing. Because it  _ is _ funny, and even caught in the haze of the hunt, he can see the humor.

The human stumbles backwards another few steps.

Primly, Seungmin pirouettes to face the human, and a wide, innocent smile that shines like the sun itself stretches his cheeks. Finally in a language Chan can understand, he breathes, “I don’t think you’re going anywhere.”

From Chan’s throat comes an unnatural snarling shriek that pierces the night like a sharpened claw. Without any other warning, he pounces.

~ ・~

Carefully, Seungmin drags a finger through the blood splattered over his cheek.

“You are very good at that,” he breathes, his tone almost reverent.

Looking up from his meal, which currently lies disemboweled and torn to shreds under his talons and teeth, Chan blinks some of the frenzy away so he can properly see the elemental before him.

Seungmin hadn’t moved, the whole time he’d been tearing the human apart and eating away the most choice and tender bits. He’d simply stood there, allowing the blood to splatter over him, like he hadn’t cared at all. His previously untouched sweater is now permanently stained, his pants bear the evidence of the human’s entrails, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. If anything, the expression on his face is one of wonder.

For a moment, Chan’s mind blanks. But then Seungmin’s eyes catch his, and something within him shudders back into being.

“I have a lot of practice.” Though he doesn’t mean it to, his voice still comes out as a monstrous growl. Of course, if he’d expected the elemental to shy away, then he’s sorely disappointed. If anything, Seungmin draws closer, the expression on his face morphing to one of fondness that mixes with a fanatic light that Chan recognizes as the still pumping adrenaline of a hunt.

“I can imagine you do,” Seungmin agrees, stepping through the scattered remains of the human without care. “That’s what you would have done to me, isn’t it?” There isn’t even a hint of accusation in his voice. If anything, he sounds awed.

“Yes,” Chan admits, wondering if he could have lied if he tried. Gore and entrails drip from his jaw, splattering back against the bloody ground. “I thought you were human.”

“But I’m not.” Standing before Chan, entirely unafraid, the elemental reaches for him. Carefully, Chan lowers his head and allows his muzzle and face to be caressed. Seungmin pays no attention to the blood, he simply holds Chan as though he’s precious. As though he matters.

“You’re definitely not human,” Chan agrees. If his voice trembles slightly as he speaks, it’s from the pure pent up energy that still pounds forcefully through his veins; instincts that still rage through him unchecked and untamed.

Despite those wild emotions, he lets himself be pulled closer, allows Seungmin to tip his head down until their foreheads are pressed together. His nose ends up buried in baby blue sweater, and he inhales deeply, focusing on that smoky scent over the powerful odor of blood and death. “I’m just like you, Chan,” Seungmin whispers, his words carrying through the breeze with perfect clarity. “I’m a monster, through and through. And I’m okay with that.”

Chan knows that now, he sees it, and he’s never felt so strongly drawn to anyone before in his whole existence.

“Never forget.” The elemental pulls away, and one of his thumbs smears through the gore on Chan’s cheek. “Please.”

Then he smiles softly, and Chan realizes he’s going to carry this memory with him for the rest of his life.

~o~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did the thing, can I have the happy chemicals now?


	4. Special

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter too me far too long and the only excuse I have is that I keep switching between it and the nasty cryptid porn that will never see the light of day.
> 
> norudeghosts did the beta thing! And fed me delicious urban fantasy Minsung. I am... I love with their writing and wish more of it existed.
> 
> There's art of this story now! Somewhere. I need to put it up on twitter so it can be found.
> 
> Oh well.
> 
> Enjoy!

Chan stirs when Seungmin does, uncurling slightly from around the elemental while he tries to blink the confusion of unconsciousness from his brain. It takes him a moment to figure out _why_ he’s awake, and a moment longer to remember how he’d ended up with an armful of elemental in the first place. But eventually, the memories slot into place, and he comes to enough to shift his arm off of the other’s shoulders.

“Mmm, Seungmin-” he mumbles, his words thick and awkward as he squints against the early morning sunlight pointedly filtering through the mouth of his den. The elemental is in the process of extricating himself fully from his position curled up against Chan’s body, and he watches through blurry eyes as the boy carefully gets to his feet. “What are you-?”

“Shhh.” Hushing him, the elemental runs warm hands through his fur, instantly settling Chan back down. Leaning into the touch, too tired to think clearly, he lets out a pleased rumble that echoes in the confined space.

Still, when Seungmin keeps moving, he wakes himself up enough to wonder, “Why’re you getting up?”

“I’ve got to head home,” the elemental explains softly, carefully stepping free of bloody, tangled fur, mindful not to tread on the other’s large paws as he does so. The moment Seungmin’s heat moves away from him, Chan feels a chill run down his spine. Usually, he doesn’t mind cold, but the change in temperature has his body confused, and he mourns the elemental’s departure.

Focusing harder than he usually has to on the other’s words, Chan huffs and plants his chin on a paw. “Can’t you stay longer?” It sounds needy even to his sleep-addled brain, and he flattens his ears, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut.

Despite the daytime haze, he can still make out the small, fond smile that stretches the other’s cheeks. “I would but…” The elemental gestures to himself, and the large, very noticeable blood-spatters that cover him from head to toe. “I should probably get back before there are humans awake enough to question me.”

“Oh,” Chan mumbles, rubbing his snout against the back of his paw, chagrined. It makes perfect sense for Seungmin to leave now. If he’d thought about it for even a second, he could have probably come to the same conclusion. Feeling crestfallen at him leaving is silly. “Yes, you probably should.”

Maybe some of his disappointment leaks out into his tone, because Seungmin reminds him in a steadying tone, “I’ll come back.”

“I know you will.” And he does. Somewhere deep within his chest, he knows the elemental will always come back. Whether it be tomorrow, or a week from now, eventually he’ll see that blinding smile again, and feel the other’s warmth like sunlight on his fur.

That knowledge calms him, almost as much as the hand that gently pats his muzzle.

“Go back to sleep, Chan.”

His eyes slip closed, and his heartbeat evens out, keeping time with Seungmin’s footsteps as the boy walks to the mouth of the cave before slipping out into the soft daylight.

And though it isn’t intentional in the slightest, he does as he’s told, and drifts off back to sleep.

~ ・~

“So Chan,” Somehow, the way Felix says it already has Chan self-consciously looking away from scrubbing the entrails out from around his claws. Whatever is coming next _can’t_ be good for his sanity. “I hear you and a certain Fire Elemental-”

“Felix-” he tries, in a half-hearted attempt to stymie the conversation before it begins.

“-were out being _loud_ last night,” the dryad finishes, bearing sharp teeth in a mischievous grin. The way he says it is purposefully misleading, Chan knows, but that doesn’t stop him from pawing at his muzzle in embarrassment and whining loudly. When the dryad’s reaction to Chan’s discomfort is to throw his head back and let out a delighted cackle, he kicks a hind paw in his direction, sending water splashing over the other’s side of the river-bank. It sloshes over Felix in a glittering wave, plastering his leafy hair to his forehead and clinging to his pale papery skin. 

Letting out a playfully offended gasp, the forest spirit retaliates by flicking a fallen twig in Chan’s direction. As expected, it lodges in his long fur, tangling in his pelt like it has a mind of its own. Considering it’s wood from the dryad’s tree, it probably does.

Loud was a very relative term, in Chan’s opinion. He’s not even sure if it counts as a valid complaint. He and Seungmin had been no louder than the humans at the temple had been, and it was inevitable in the course of a hunt that there were a few stray screams. Admittedly, the kill had been a bit drawn out, but that’s how these things went sometimes. “You make it sound like we were doing something wrong,” he says plaintively. 

“I never implied a thing,” the dryad declares, even though in Chan’s opinion, that statement is blatantly untrue. “I only said you were being noisy, which can mean any number of things.” Pursing his lips together and lifting leafy eyebrows, Felix is the picture of faux-innocence as he asks, “But now that we’re on the subject, _were_ you doing something wrong?” 

Briefly, he thinks of earlier that morning. Seungmin tucked into the crook of his body, and the soft glow that had permeated the entire cave. There’s nothing inherently wrong with it, but it still feels like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t have.

Wrinkling his muzzle at his own thoughts, Chan tries to pick the twig out of his fur, only for it to somehow end up buried deeper. It tickles his skin, and he gives it an irritable scratch before giving up. “We didn’t do anything bad.” It occurs to him a moment later how _weird_ it is for Felix to be bringing this up at all. “Hold on, how did you know Seungmin was here at all. I haven’t brought him up once today! You should have been asleep.”

“Says the creature who never sleeps,” Felix chides, waving a finger at Chan in mock admonishment. “What hypocrisy.” When Chan makes moves to splash him again, he holds up his hands in surrender. “Alright, you got me. My knowledge is second hand.” His eyes dance with a fond sort of delight. “ A certain Air Elemental heard the two of you last night. Apparently, you were _so loud_ that you woke him up.”

“I’ve already told you, that’s a terrible way to put it,” Chan states flatly, his ear twitching like it’s a nervous tic. Frustrated, he claps one large paw over the left side of his skull, trying to still the offending muscles. “Besides, that’s not being fair, _we_ weren’t the loud ones.”

“Ah yes, because there are a hundred other beings on this mountain that just so happen to have the same screeching howl that you do.” Crossing bark-covered arms over his chest, Felix lifts an eyebrow and gives Chan a _look._ “I fail to see how calling you _loud_ is incorrect in any way.”

“I always make that sound, even on normal nights,” Chan points out.

“And the prolonged and tortured human screaming?” 

“Also relatively common.”

Dismissively, Felix waves a hand. “Common or not, it woke Hyunjin up. And while he’s adorable when grumpy and sleepy, I still had to listen to him complain about the noise all morning.”

“Sorry?” Chan ventures. 

There are any number of spirits who inhabit the land around them, from the water sprites in the streams to the air elementals that float up on the warm summer breezes, to the rock spirits that sprung from the depths of the mountain itself. He’s vaguely aware of their existence, in the sort of way he’s aware of the small woodland creatures that scurry through his territory. But that’s the extent of his interaction. The forest doesn’t come alive for him like it does for Felix. Most beings prefer to stay far away from him, rather than approach

If Felix’s chatter is to be believed, the dryad knows all of them. Yet Chan’s never actually met a single one.

Though he’d never really bothered to resent this, it did leave him with a strange disconnect when the dryad began talking about other mountain spirits. Chan was often entirely mystified, not only by Felix’s ability to so easily make friends, but also by the way he could talk so adoringly of some of the ones he knew best, happily babbling on about them with an unbelievably soft look on his face. 

It had seemed vaguely… Inexplicable.

But now that he knows Seungmin, he’s pretty sure he’s beginning to get it.

 _Tsking_ softly, Felix uncurls from the base of his tree, straightening his slim form before shimmying forward and slipping into the river. “Don’t apologize Chan,” he insists, mischief curling through his words like a vine. “Hyunjin will be fine, he went to take a nap further up the mountain.”

Miffed, Chan begins to argue that he’d been trying to be sympathetic, and doesn’t actually care one way or another if he’d woken Hyunjin up, only for Felix to cut him off with a quick, “But now that it’s all water down stream, why don’t you tell me what the two of you were _actually_ up to, if not something bad.”

The dryad grins from ear to leafy ear. Huffing, Chan momentarily considers splashing him again before giving up. Even if he says nothing now, Felix is bound to get it out of him eventually. Both of them might be incredibly patient creatures, but if it’s a contest of wills, Felix generally manages to outlast him.

Still, he does attempt to deflect with a stout, “We didn’t do anything interesting.”

“You’re absolutely terrible at lying,” the dryad informs him sympathetically. 

“I’m not _lying,”_ Chan puffs out. “I just took Seungmin with me on a hunt.” Technically, it’s not untrue when he says it isn’t interesting. Hunting is a perfectly normal behavior and he’s done it for years. There’s nothing remarkable about the process, not really. 

But the _context,_ well, that’s an entirely different story.

If he closes his eyes, Chan can still see that enraptured expression on Seungmin’s face as he’d stood hunched over the fresh corpse of a human, and still feel that sense of utter devotion that had coursed through his veins in that second. Honestly, there’s something entirely frightening about that memory that has nothing to do with how fresh it is.

As if he can read this train of thought from his face alone, Felix lets out an understanding hum under his breath. Giving his friend a wounded stare, Chan picks at the coarse hair of his left arm. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you know what I’m thinking.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Felix makes a show of turning away from him. “Alright then Chan, I’ll look over _here-”_ He theatrically gestures to the endless span of forest cut through with the winding river. “And _you_ can tell me all about how you two went hunting, before proceeding to pass out together in your den.”

Chan _almost_ has a retort formed when Felix’s words hit him and his mind comes to a grinding halt. “Wait, I- We didn’t-” Spluttering, he rears back on his haunches and exasperatedly demands, “How on earth do you know _that?”_

“Well, it helps that you just confirmed my theory.” Doing a pleased little spin, Felix flashes him a wide, sharp-toothed grin before swiftly kneeling down in the river and ducking his head beneath the rippling water. Letting out a sigh, Chan rubs at the point below his antlers in the hopes of easing the tension that has built up there. This being is his friend, he’s very certain of that fact, but sometimes he wonders if Felix just enjoys making his life difficult.

“There’s no way you just knew that,” he informs the dryad once the spirit’s leafy head pops back out of the river. “Did-” Quickly, Chan fishes for the name the other had mentioned a few minutes ago. “Hyunjin tell you that too?”

“No,” Felix replies, jerking his head sideways several times to rid his ears of water. “Hyunjin was here at the time. It was Changbin who saw him leave your cave this morning.” When Chan gives him a blank look, the dryad adds, “He’s a rock spirit,” as though that explains anything. “I told you about him _ages_ ago.”

“You tell me about a _lot_ of other beings.” He wants to be offended that this Changbin managed to get so close to his den without him noticing, but considering how sleepy he’d been when Seungmin had left, he supposes he hadn’t been in the frame of mind to be noticing _anything._ “How many friends do you have?” Really, he’s almost impressed by how unobtrusive the other mountain spirits can be. It leaves him wondering if he would have met Felix at all, if the dryad hadn’t chosen to reveal himself. 

“Clearly more than you do.” The teasing light in Felix’s big eyes dims slightly, and his smirk evens out into a more sincere expression. “Seriously though, you should meet him someday, you two would probably get along.”

Not entirely convinced, Chan mutters, “If you say so.”

Satisfied with the answer regardless, Felix ducks beneath the bubbling river once again. The light refracts off the surface of the water, and his papery pale skin shimmers pure silver. Instead of watching, Chan returns to his own bathing. As he scrubs out the fluff of his neck, the water briefly runs red with blood and clumps of gore before eventually going clear.

“So are you going to tell me?” Jerking his head up, Chan lets out a high pitched whine of complaint at Felix’s unrelenting grin. “I’m not sure why you’re trying to hide it.”

Like with so many things that have to do with Seungmin, talking aloud about hunting the night before seems wrong, like he’s revealing something ridiculously private. It had been a moment between them and only them. Whatever the elemental thought about the whole situation, Chan can’t deny how precious those moments had been. Telling Felix might not do anything in the long run, but he still shies away from the idea.

Even though he’s long since accepted that talking about Seungmin isn’t going to make him disappear.

“We really did just go hunting,” Chan mumbles at last, pulling himself out of the water and plopping himself down on the bank. “It was a spur of the moment thing.”

Finding a rock to sit on, Felix draws his knees up to his chin before fixing Chan with an intent look. “That seems like a big deal to me.”

“Well, you know how many humans come crawling through the forest around this time of year,” Chan reasons, trying to keep his tone casual, as though that’ll dissuade Felix of _anything._ “I was getting a little twitchy, and Seungmin-” Had wanted to see the real him, even if it was monstrous and horrifying. “-offered to help me with it. To calm me down.”

Nodding along with this explanation, the dryad cheekily quips, “Mmhm, I’m sure that’s all it was.”

“I’m going to splash you again,” Chan warns, baring his teeth like he has a chance in hell of intimidating Felix.

Tossing his head back, the dryad lets out a high laugh that contrasts with his low voice. “Do your worst.”

Disgruntled, Chan scrapes his antlers against a nearby tree and grumbles, “Leave me alone.” There’s no bite behind his words, and the dryad knows it. “It’s not as special as you’re making it out to be.”

“That depends,” Felix hums. “Do you usually take other beings with you when hunting?”

“I don’t exactly have enough friends to answer that properly.” Unfortunately, now that the question has been posed, as ever, he starts thinking about it. If Felix wasn’t tied to his tree, or didn’t sleep during the night, would Chan take him hunting? To be honest, he doesn’t think he’d have a reason to do so. Even if the dryad didn’t flinch at the idea of killing humans, usually prowling for food was easier as a one creature affair. Bringing Felix would have been more trouble than it was worth.

On the other hand, Seungmin accompanying him _hadn’t_ been some logically thought out plan. It had been impulsive, and the elemental had asked, and Chan had wanted to see. Needed to believe the other when he said there was a monster behind those glowing eyes and glittering smiles. There had been _meaning_ behind killing alongside Seungmin.

Going on the same trip with Felix, or any other forest spirit for that matter, wouldn’t hold the same importance.

“It wasn’t about the hunt,” he finally admits despite himself, his eyes fixed on his paws, each word almost too heavy to say. “It was about realizing that he and I aren’t as intrinsically different as I thought we were.” If he could have, he would have smiled softly at his own words. “I’ve known Seungmin is Unnatural, but I guess it never really hit me until last night.”

Giving a small nod, Felix says, “It can be easy to forget, considering the forms we take, but none of us are human.”

“I felt like I wasn’t so alone, for once.” Digging his talons into the riverbank, Chan feels his chest swell, and wonders distantly if that’s normal. “I felt… Accepted for what I am.”

“I’ve accepted you for years,” Felix says, like he’s trying to coax him towards something.

Without thinking, Chan responds, “That’s different.” _He’s different,_ he almost adds, before biting down on his own tongue. There are better ways to explain it, so he tries, slowly, as though that’ll keep him from being misunderstood. “It’s not just about someone else being okay with me, though that’s important too.” Alright, maybe it’s never going to come out right. “With him… I felt like I could accept myself.” As he finishes, he wrinkles his muzzle in distaste. “I sound ridiculous, sorry.”

“It doesn’t sound dumb to me,” Felix tells him with a chuckle. “It sounds to me like you’re finally telling yourself the truth.”

The accuracy of it sinks in, and Chan finds himself relaxing. Even though he’s used to being a monster, even though he’s always claimed to be _okay_ with who he is, this is the first time he’s felt like he’s allowed to be himself around other creatures. It’s not something he has to hide or pretend isn’t there, it’s just a natural part of him. Other beings are allowed to see.

Seungmin is allowed to see, because the elemental isn’t going to treat Chan differently because of it.

“You know what, I’ve officially decided something, Chan.” Felix’s smile stretches across his face, displaying his mouthful of pointed teeth. “That elemental is good for you.”

“Dare I ask what that means?” Chan asks, even though privately he thinks he already has an idea.

“You just look… Happy,” the dryad chirps, railing twiggy fingers through the rushing river. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy before.”

Blinking twice, Chan opens his mouth to disagree, only to realize that Felix is right. On both counts. He _is_ happy, ridiculously so, and he’s fairly certain he’s never felt like this before. In all his long years of stalking this mountain, preying on its humans and talking to its spirits, he’s never found something that truly disrupts the monotony of everyday life. Nothing has ever taken that endless, unchanging cycle, and broken it in such a complete and wonderful way.

No one except for Seungmin.

“Maybe I am happy.” 

For once, Felix doesn’t make fun of him, he just smiles, like seeing Chan in a good mood is enough for him. “He’s special,” the dryad says. No longer is he phrasing it like a question, it’s just a simple statement of fact, like he knows it’s veracity and isn’t about to listen to any arguments on the matter.

Still, something about it makes Chan squirm, even if he knows there’s very little point in denying how he feels about Seungmin at this juncture. “We’re _friends,”_ he insists, putting emphasis on the word. It’s a safe thing to be, a safe term for something he doesn’t have to put much thought into. A very easy way to take all of the weird, mildly uncomfortable feelings he has for the elemental and put them into a hole where he can bury them and not think too far past that.

Of course, while it’s remarkably easy to make himself believe things, it’s a lot harder to convince other creatures. Snorting, Felix runs his toes along the edge of his river rock before fixing Chan with a knowing look. “I think it’s something more than that. Not just from your perspective, but from his as well.”

Despite the certainty in the other’s tone, doubt rises up in Chan’s chest. He can accept that things are definitely a very specific _way_ for him. But for Seungmin as well? That sounds impossible, even given everything that had happened the night before. “Seungmin just wants to be friends.” He injects as much certainty into his voice as he can, because even if Felix doesn’t believe him, Chan knows it’s true.

As if to prove this disbelief, the dryad lets out a soft sigh before lifting up a twiggy hand so he can start ticking off points. “You two spend a lot of time with each other.”

“Well, yes,” Chan agrees, squirming where he sits. It’s true; all things considered he’s probably spent more time with Seungmin recently than Felix, and the dryad is an early morning and a short walk away. Still that doesn’t really _mean_ anything. “But I spend a lot of time with you. And Seungmin has friends at the bottom of the mountain.”

“And yet he still comes to see you,” Felix points out, ticking off another finger.

Ears going flat, Chan mumbles, “He only does it when he doesn’t have anything else to do.” Or when Jisung annoys him and he needs a break. Or when there’s a problem he doesn’t want to deal with. Or when he just wants to spend time looking at the stars…

“He crosses at least _two_ rivers to get to you Chan,” Felix states, lifting a leafy eyebrow. “Don’t look at me and tell me that he’s just bored.”

Admittedly, it did seem like maybe it could mean something more. If you looked at it from a certain perspective. But Chan knows better. “Maybe he has other reasons, but-”

Lifting a third finger, Felix interrupts him. “You took him hunting. Which means he values whatever is between you two enough to go with you, I’d assume willingly if not enthusiastically.” 

“He actually asked first,” Chan says to the dirt between his taloned fingers. Of course he’s thought about this fact, but he sort of knows why Seungmin had to be the one to prompt it. He certainly never would have asked the elemental, would never have even thought about the possibility if it hadn’t been suggested to him. That’s all it is, there isn’t anything deeper about it.

He thinks it, but deep down, he knows there’s a small spark of hope growing somewhere under his exposed ribs. A hope that the dryad is right, and Seungmin does think about Chan like Chan thinks about him.

As though he can read this from his face, Felix says “I bet he asked to go hunting because he wants to know more about you.”

“That’s a big assumption.”

The dryad ticks off another finger. “Then let me make another. I _assume_ you’ve shared other personal things with him that you wouldn’t tell anyone else.”

Chan doesn’t verbally respond, can’t find the words to deny any of it. He just nods along to what the other is saying.

With an air of vindication, Felix finishes, “And I bet that Seungmin has shared important things with you right back.”

Abruptly, he stops nodding. The spark in Chan’s chest flickers and goes out.

“I-”

Looking over the fingers he’s still holding up, Felix’s brow creases as he notices the sudden shift in the mood. “What?”

“I think you’re wrong,” he breathes, wondering why something he already knows is true is digging into his chest like a spike. “I- I don’t think it’s like that.”

Uncharacteristically, Felix lets out a frustrated sound before sharply asking, “Then what _is_ it like, Chan?”

The words catch in his throat. “I don’t-”

“You obviously had a good time,” Felix presses, getting off of his rock so he can draw closer. “He obviously makes you happy. You obviously feel like you shared something personal with him.” Knitting his brows together, the dryad spreads his hands. “He’s _special_ to you, so why are you having trouble… admitting it?”

For a moment, Chan can only stare at Felix as the pain in his chest grows. Expands to the point where he can’t possibly breathe past it. Something like this isn’t _supposed_ to feel like this, calling the elemental a friend is supposed to make things simpler, this should be easy. But all he can see is the elemental’s glowing face, and all that echoes in his ears is the boy’s laugh, but it doesn’t soothe the ache. 

In that moment, Chan realizes. He knows why Felix’s words have caused such a reaction; knows why it hurts. It’s because he _did_ have a good time. It hurts _because_ he’s shared something so deeply personal with the elemental, and Seungmin has shared nothing in return. 

All this time, he’s been opening up and _feeling things_ and falling deeper down a hole he doesn’t understand and can’t see the bottom of. It’s new, and wonderful at times but still so very _scary._ And the only thing he wants is for Seungmin to be there with him. Falling as well, or at least waiting for him at the bottom.

But as far as Chan can see, Seungmin isn’t there.

He’s taking this horrible plunge all on his own.

Eyes drawn away from Felix’s crestfallen face to the river, Chan breathes in and tries to ignore the ache in his chest. “I don’t want him to disappear, Felix.” It’s such an inadequate way of explaining, but he doesn’t know what else to say. He and Seungmin are _friends,_ he wants that to be enough.

A hand lights on his shoulder as the dryad settles on the riverbank beside him. “He’s not _going_ to disappear, Chan.”

“Do you think I’m being stupid?”

“I think,” Felix hums, leaning back and glancing up at the sunny sky above. “That you have a lot of things you want to ask Seungmin, but you’re worried he’s going to vanish if you pry too much.” The dryad’s silver eyes grow distant and thoughtful as he speaks, and Chan can’t help but listen. “If you want to get to know him better, and maybe understand why he keeps coming back, you’re going to have to ask him those questions, even if it’s a little frightening.” 

Felix’s expression brightens, and he smiles softly as he turns his gaze on Chan. “If he’s anything like you say he is, I think you might find yourself surprised by how much he’ll tell you.”

Though Chan isn’t as certain as Felix sounds, he keeps it to himself, trying, just for a moment, to believe that the other is right. Because it’s a nice thought, and it loosens the pain behind his ribs.

“I’ll try,” he promises, his rough, growling voice uncommonly small.

Felix just smiles. “Good.”

~ ・~

Even from the mountain, he can see the fire.

It’s well into the night when it springs up, probably sometime after two in the morning. The sky is dark and heavy with stars, the ground is vaguely cool underfoot, and the trees whisper secrets to each other high above Chan’s head. Honestly, it isn’t even the light of the flames that draw his attention away from his usual prowl, rather, it’s the smoke that rises high up from the town below. 

When he catches the first whiff, he assumes Seungmin is somewhere nearby. It’s an instant association, one born of experience, and a fair bit of fondness. Though it was once frightening, hints of smoke on the wind, the scent strangely brings him comfort now. Before he even looks for the familiar smile and bright eyes, undeniable contentment is rising in his chest.

But when he turns, Chan doesn’t find the elemental. 

Instead, he sees a pillar of impenetrable cloudy darkness rising thickly up into the night sky.

Understandably, his first and only thought is that the forest is on fire. Feeling that instinctive jolt of terror slice through him, everything else in his mind narrows down to fight or flight. 

Fighting will do him no good. A forest fire isn’t something he can tear apart with his claws, so that leaves him with only one other option. Without thought he’s scaling higher, trying to put distance between himself and the fire, wherever it might be coming from. It’s such a base instinct that his brain doesn’t get much input on the matter. His paws are already thudding heavily against the ground, everything going on autopilot in an attempt to get him as far away from the smoke as possible.

He might have run until he reached his den, or even the rocky peaks of the mountain if given half the chance. Finally though, as he leaps up a particularly large outcropping of rock, Chan briefly turns and gets a decent look through the trees. Skidding slightly across the shale beneath him, claws scrabbling to find purchase, he stops running.

Because that’s when he sees the fire itself.

It isn’t his mountain ablaze, and Chan takes a moment to catch his breath as this reality sets in. For all his panic, he’s fine, and he doesn’t need to keep running. Which is good, because there are some things you can’t always outrun. That being said, adrenaline is still hopping in his veins, and the desire to flee still clouds his mind. Resolutely, he swallows it down so he can survey the scene.

The flames are coming from the town that sprawls out far below him. Though he can’t be sure, it seems like one of the larger human constructions is what’s currently burning, and despite the distance, the fire is big enough that he can see the bright oranges and reds licking skyward. By his best estimation, it’s the stiff western wind that caused him to smell the smoke at all, blowing the plumes of thick gray over the tops of the trees and straight to him. 

Probably, he should be worried about embers being carried on the air and starting a fire elsewhere, but at that moment, there are other things that are springing to mind and taking up his attention.

Technically, he has no proof that the two things are connected, but Chan still stares at the yellows and oranges imprinting on his retinas and thinks of Seungmin. It’s been two days since the fire elemental last graced his mountain, and though he doesn’t want to admit it aloud, he misses the boy. This is silly for any number of reasons, not least of which being that he’s waited much longer periods of time between Seungmin’s visits without any problem.

But…

Considering his conversation with Felix the other day, he thinks he might understand his own consternation, why the other’s return is so _important,_ now more than ever. Despite the inordinate amount of trust he’s placed in Seungmin, there’s still the lingering fear that the boy is going to take all of the deeply personal things that have been shared with him, all of the insecurities and fears, and simply vanish. Take that soft reliance and devotion that Chan has given him and float off into the evening air.

Like the plumes of smoke from a fire.

At the thought, something wells up within Chan’s chest, beneath the exposed ribs and leathery skin. Ripping through him with the force of a hurricane, it steals his breath and clenches his heart, till he can scarcely breathe at all. There are a million emotions contained within it, a whole spectrum of things he doesn’t understand, doesn’t know if he _wants_ to comprehend even if he could. It’s such a swell of inexplicable _feeling_ that for a moment, Chan doesn’t know what to do.

All he can do is clench his jaw against the feral sound that threatens to escape the back of his throat and stare unblinkingly down the mountain at the fire below.

Distantly, he hopes that Seungmin is alright. Even if a fire is exactly where he belongs, even though this fire and the elemental probably have nothing to do with each other, Chan doesn’t know what he’d do if something happened to the other.

In the end, it’s yet another question he has that he’s not prepared to answer.

~ ・~

As always, Seungmin does come back.

“If I have to deal with Jisung any more, I’m going to set him on fire,” is the declaration he opens with, plopping down beside Chan, who is curled at the base of a large yew tree, absently gnawing on a femur. Glancing over at the elemental, bone half hanging from his jaw, he takes a moment to confirm that, yes, Seungmin is one piece, before responding.

“Isn’t he a fire elemental like you?” A tasty piece of cartilage comes off in his mouth and he munches on it thoughtfully. “Doesn’t that make setting him on fire… Useless?”

Sticking out his bottom lip slightly, Seungmin gives a doleful look, like someone had shaken the leaves off his tree. Before Chan can defend himself against this sudden attack, the elemental lets out a sigh and his expression returns to normal. “Well, obviously it won’t do anything _permanent._ But Jisung will probably still panic for a moment, and at least it’ll make me feel better.”

There’s obvious frustration in the elemental’s voice, brewing just below the surface. Without thinking about it too hard, Chan shifts his position on his tree roots, until his shoulder is pressed up against Seungmin’s side. Like it’s a spell of some sort, the result is instant. Tension leaks from Seungmin’s body, and he leans back against Chan with a grateful sigh. Contented by this reaction, he goes back to chewing on his leg bone.

They sit like that for a while, silent and relaxed. Valiantly, Chan tries not to think about all of the uncomfortable things that have been crowding his mind for the past few days, but they descend on him like a wake of vultures regardless. It’s hard to ignore the way his insides threaten to grow soft when he’s bathing in the other’s warmth as he is now. It’s equally as difficult to pretend he doesn’t feel the tension that thrums at the base of his skull.

As always, there are a thousand questions he wants to ask. Relevant ones, and ones that he’s been sitting on since the moment he met the elemental. Felix’s suggestion to just _go for it_ echoes somewhere in his head. But he bites down on his bone instead of speaking up, and stares off into the trees.

“So what did he do this time?” Chan at last asks, as he swipes his tongue over a fatty piece of gristle.

Seungmin, who had been absently playing with the other’s fur, shakes himself a bit before answering. “I’m probably being unfair, it wasn’t really _him_ this time.”

Looking away from his snack, Chan turns his head slightly, almost smacking the elemental in the face with his antlers. “If not him, then who did annoy you?”

 _“Annoy,”_ Seungmin mutters, ducking his head to avoid getting hit. “You make it sound so simple.” Considering his own words for a beat, the elemental lets out a small chuckle, and for a moment Chan gets to see the other’s glittering smile. “Actually, now that you say it, it’s probably not as complicated as I’m making it.”

“Don’t overthink things,” Chan advises. 

“You’re the last creature who gets to tell me that,” Seungmin informs him, flicking one of his horns with a raised brow and a slight smirk. 

Wrinkling his snout, Chan mumbles, “Just because I don’t take my own advice doesn’t mean I can’t give it.” Twisting his body, he repositions himself till his head is lying comfortably in Seungmin’s lap. The femur finds its way back into his mouth and he goes back to gnawing, waiting patiently for the boy to explain fully. If he gives the elemental enough time, eventually he’ll get more information.

They sit in relative silence for a few minutes, listening to the faint bird calls that wind through the trees above, and the crunch of bone between Chan's teeth, before Seungmin finally speaks again.

“It’s about that friend Jisung made a while ago,” the boy says, one hand finding Chan’s neck fluff, the other absently running over the course fur between his eyes.

“The Unnatural one,” Chan confirms, from around his bone. The warmth from Seungmin’s body soaks into him, and the other’s gentle touch brings a pleased rumble from the back of his throat, one that puts a slight smile on the elemental’s face.

“Yeah,” Seungmin agrees with a huff. _“Him._ Turns out he _is_ Unnatural, it wasn’t just me being paranoid.”

“What is he?” Though he’s still mostly relaxed, Chan can’t stop his ears from flicking a few times reflexively. Though he can’t quite put his finger on it, there’s something about another, potentially harmful, creature spending time around Seungmin that gets his hackles up. Even if he knows full well the elemental can handle himself.

“That’s the thing.” Seungmin’s frustration is evident in the absent way he tugs at Chan’s fur, like he’s forgotten that he’s holding it. “I still don’t know.” Shaking his head, he mutters. “His eyes are all white though. And he speaks our language, so I know he’s _something.”_ Clicking his tongue, the elemental lets up the tension on the the other’s pelt. “Give me some time to look into it, and I’ll know what he is. He’s not as covert as he thinks he is.”

Despite being an Unnatural being himself, Chan’s experience with other beings is rather limited. In all his time on this mountain, he’s only ever _really_ had contact with Felix, and now Seungmin. Though he can identify someone as being Unnatural or otherwise, he can’t put a proper name on anything. Generally, all he can do is say if the presence is harmful or not. And when he doesn’t know, he likes erring on the side of caution.

Which is why he responds with, “I think you should get rid of him. If he’s not willing to be entirely upfront, then make it clear that he’s not welcome in your home.” The hand on his snout freezes, but Chan presses on. “If he comes back, then deal with him accordingly.”

“You’re more paranoid than I am,” Seungmin hums, amusement bubbling in his words, almost like he’s impressed.

Flustered, Chan wrinkles his muzzle under the other’s fingers. “I’m _not_ paranoid, I just don’t want-” He stops, realizing with a start that he’d been about to say _I don’t want you hurt._ It sounds stupid, Chan shouldn’t be so worked up over something like this. The elemental can take care of himself, he _knows_ that, why is he acting otherwise?

Thankfully, for his sanity, Seungmin fills in the awkward silence. “Honestly, I’d tell this being to stay away, but I’m one-hundred percent sure that Jisung has a crush on him.”

“Even though he’s Unnatural?”

The elemental snorts at the question. “I mean, you’re Unnatural too.”

Baffled, Chan sets aside his bone for a moment so he can give Seungmin a genuinely confused look. “Wait, what do I have to do with this?”

“I-” Blinking several times, Seungmin lifts his eyebrows before pursing his lips together in a very small smile. “Never mind. You’re right, you have nothing to do with Jisung’s poor life choices.” Puffing out his cheeks, he adds, “Really, I’m not as worried as I was. Again, this guy is more annoying than concerning.”

Settling back down, Chan huffs before looking at his almost entirely clean femur thoughtfully. “The last few times you’ve mentioned him, you make him sound like he might be… Bad news.” For Jisung, but also for Seungmin. Chan isn’t about to get too worked up over the other fire elemental’s choices, but if they affect Seungmin, he’s going to have an issue. Maybe he isn’t sure what that issue is yet, but he’s going to have it.

“He doesn’t _seem_ evil. For all my frustrations with him hanging around the forge, and I do have them, he isn’t a malevolent presence.” The elemental fusses with one of Chan’s antlers, his blunt nails scraping against bone. “He’s _discomforting,_ yes, and I might have gotten into an argument or two with him, but he isn’t going to hurt Jisung.”

“But what if he does?” Chan can’t help but ask. The question is a valid one, but right under its surface is the similar one of _What if he hurts you?_

Unexpectedly, Seungmin lets out a laugh at this, one that’s bright and innocent, but somehow all the more threatening for it. “He knows that if he so much as touches Jisung wrong, I’ll gut him.” Despite the angelic smile on the elemental’s face, Chan doesn’t doubt him for a second.

“So if you aren’t worried what he’s going to do to Jisung, then why does he have you so…” Chan fishes for the word for a moment before settling on, “Irritated.”

“This time?” Seungmin sighs. “He woke us both up in the middle of the night yesterday. Which Jisung didn’t mind but _I_ minded.”

Chan’s about to ask _over what?_ but then he remembers the fire he’d seen leaping up from the town below the mountain, and he thinks he understands this other Unnatural’s thought process, just a bit. Perhaps it hadn’t been the first thought to cross his mind, or even the fifth or sixth, but it had been there. Just the smallest whisper in his head that, even if the fire hadn’t been started by Seungmin or his friend, it was something they were entirely capable of. “So… That wasn’t you.”

“What?” Seungmin gives his head a little shake before his eyes widen in comprehension. “No, the fire wasn’t me.” He doesn’t sound upset necessarily, just disgruntled. “But I guess Jisung’s friend thought it might have been us, because he showed up and acted _weird.”_ He pauses thoughtfully for a moment before clarifying, “Weirder than usual.”

“Do you know what did cause the fire?” Chan asks curiously. When Seungmin doesn’t answer right away, he glances up, and finds an unexpectedly pensive look on the other’s face. Though he isn’t being vocal about it, it’s obvious that he knows something. Whether it’s the identity of who started the blaze, or something else, Chan can’t begin to guess.

Catching his scrutiny, the elemental’s expression smooths out, and he gives a disarming smile, one that easily scatters Chan’s brain cells. “Not a clue. The only thing that burned down was an abandoned warehouse. It was unusual but…” He shrugs. “It wasn’t me, and Jisung might be stupid but he isn’t _that_ stupid.”

It’s a fairly definitive statement, and Chan has no reason to doubt him. Burning down random things really doesn’t seem like Seungmin, anyway. It’s too… Random. Chaotic. The elemental is no doubt _capable_ of such things, but if he were to burn something down, it’d probably be a calculated thing. Which of course leaves Chan wondering if the other ever _has_ burned anything to the ground. Though perhaps it’s not the most tactful of questions to ask, it’s out of his mouth before he can stop it.

“Have you ever done something like that?”

Seungmin gives him a carefully blank look. “Like… what?”

The question had been just obvious enough that he doubts the other’s need for clarification. Admittedly, it had been a rather strange question, and the elemental’s feigned confusion gives him a chance to blow it off, but… Seungmin had been so adamant about being a monster. However accidentally, he feels like he’s stumbled upon something important.

Chan huffs. “You know-” His attention is torn between the ground beside Seungmin’s lap, and the boy’s face. “Have you ever burned things down?”

Seungmin nibbles on his bottom lip for a second before clearly saying, without a trace of humor in his voice, “Not… In a long time.”

Which means he has before. Chan chews over this information, thinking of the fire at the base of the mountain as he does. It had been an inferno, and even if it had been put out by morning, the idea that Seungmin _could_ do something like that is unnerving. But at the same time, he can separate someone’s head from their spine without even exerting himself. Everyone’s good at something.

Of course, the elemental’s statement implies something else, and it leaves him more curious than before.

“Why?”

Instead of directly answering his question, Seungmin says, “Fire elementals tend to be rather destructive. Whether it’s on purpose or not, it’s very easy to wreak havoc when your whole body is flammable.” Casting one dark red eye up in the boy’s direction, Chan watches the way his face twists with any number of complicated emotions. “It’s not because they’re evil, it’s just in their nature. I can understand why Jisung’s friend came to us, wondering if the fire was our fault. If I didn’t know better, I would suspect the same thing.”

Hoping to calm the other, Chan presses his muzzle into Seungmin’s knee. “Why are you different?”

“Even though Jisung was young when I met him, he’s always been remarkably stable,” Seungmin says, and Chan knows he’s deliberately misinterpreting the question. “And with me there to keep his wilder impulses in check… He’s learned to blow off steam in other ways that don’t involve indiscriminate destruction.”

“I wasn’t asking about Jisung,” Chan says gently.

The elemental lets out a breath.

“I know.”

“Why don’t you set fires anymore, Seungmin?”

Digging his fingers into Chan’s fur, as though to keep from fiddling with them, Seungmin softly says, “I’ve grown up.” 

It’s not the first time he’s answered like that. Before, Chan had been perfectly happy to let the answer lie, but this time, he doesn’t. Instead, he lets out a rumble and gives his body a little shake. “You keep saying that.” 

The elemental’s hands clench where they’re still woven into his pelt. “That’s because it’s true,” he hums, his tone light and at odds with how tense he’s become.

“Everyone gets older,” Chan points out, feeling very much like he’s stating the obvious. “But the way you talk about it…” He puffs out a breath and falls silent, but his point is clear regardless.

“Time takes its toll on all of us differently.” Slowly, the elemental’s fingers loosen and he strokes through Chan’s fur with stilted movements. “Some beings stay the same, and others change all too much.”

The conversation has long since strayed into the territory of _personal._ Chan wonders if he should stop pushing, but… He desperately wants to know. He wants Seungmin to be comfortable talking, wants him to know that he’s not going to treat him differently or judge him. The elemental knows who Chan is, monstrous side and all, he wants that trust to be mutual.

Whatever is between them, whether it be friendship or something else, he doesn’t want it to be one sided, doesn’t want the elemental to know everything about him when Chan knows nothing in return.

Though it’s difficult to articulate that desire, it burns within him, to the point where he can’t help but open his mouth once more.

“Have you changed, Seungmin?”

Dipping his head, the elemental’s shoulders droop as he softly says, “Sometimes, I don’t think I’ve changed enough.”

The wave of sadness that spills from Seungmin in that moment is tangible. Picking up his muzzle, Chan feels a whine build in the back of his throat, and he buries it by pushing his snout into the other’s soft sweater. “What did you used to be like?” He doesn’t know how to comfort Seungmin, but maybe if he keeps asking, eventually he’ll at least figure out what’s making the boy sad. 

The elemental won’t meet his eyes, keeps them trained somewhere above his head, but he does take warm hands and press them briefly against Chan’s face before pulling away. Sensing the other’s need for space, Chan sits up, so he can loom over Seungmin in what he hopes is a comforting manner. From here, he can see the way the boy’s face twists momentarily, before smoothing out resolutely, as if he’s determined to remain calm.

After what feels like an eternity of silence, Seungmin finally speaks.

“You know how fire elementals are born, right?”

Chan puzzles over this, wondering if there’s a trick to it. “I would assume from… Fire?”

Seungmin’s soft lips turn up in a soft smile. “You would assume correctly.” Patiently, Chan waits for more, and after another pause, the elemental obliges. “Some of us are born from the Earth. Volcanoes or other active sources of heat. Some of us come from more man-made places. Anywhere a fire burns for long enough and hot enough, there’s a chance one of us will pop into being.”

It makes enough sense. Felix has explained similar to Chan before about air elementals, not that he remembers all of the details this many years later. 

“We need fire to keep us alive,” Seungmin explains, every word deliberate. “If we can’t find a consistent heat source, we eventually just… Go out. So we usually just stick to wherever we’re born and don’t go anywhere.”

 _Usually._ Distantly, Chan remembers Seungmin mentioning that he’s moved around, that the forge is only his current home. “Where were you born?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

Drawing in his bottom lip so he can nibble on it, Seungmin’s fiery eyes grow distant. “I came from… A human fire, I guess you could say.”

Confused, Chan digs his claws into the dirt. “That’s very vague.”

Wryly, Seungmin mutters, “Not all elementals are lucky enough to be born from a stable fire. Some come from explosions, and they go cold within hours of being created. Some come from forest fires. They might last for a while but… Eventually they go out too if they can’t find a more constant fire.”

A creeping sense of understanding came over Chan as the elemental flatly said, “Some of us come from fires like you saw last night. And usually… those elementals don’t survive because people put out the fire before we’re even conscious or know how to escape.”

That’s how Seungmin had come to be, Chan realizes. It doesn’t need to be directly stated, the implication is obvious. But then- “If those fires get put out so quickly, how are you… Here?”

Seungmin meets his eyes for just a second, but it’s enough to convey the conflicted emotions running through him. “I’m not as young as I look. I think I’m… One-hundred and Thirty-something.” Shaking his head, he gives a little shrug, and his hands disappear inside his sweater sleeves as he folds them in his lap. “I guess I’ve forgotten how long it’s been. Back then, fires like that could rage for days, as long as they had fuel to feed them. And methods of putting them out were clumsy at best.”

Though he doesn’t voice it, Chan’s distinctly glad for reasons he can’t explain. He’s never liked the idea of uncontrolled fires before, usually they scare him. But, he realizes, if Seungmin’s fire had been extinguished, then the boy wouldn’t be here now.

And perhaps that same thought is running through the elemental’s head, because his lips purse together tightly. “This fire destroyed half the town. It was only the river that ran through it that stopped it from consuming the whole area.” Softly, he admits, “I don’t really remember most of it. I just remember being warm, and watching everything crumble around me as human flesh boiled off of bone. I don’t know how long I stayed like that, but eventually, the fire started to get cold, and I started getting cold too, so I left. I didn’t know where I was going, but it was better than staying where I was.”

He makes it sound so mundane, like he got bored one day and walked out, but Chan knows it isn’t that simple. If a fire elemental dies without a fire to fuel them, then Seungmin is talking about _dying._ Ears flattening against his head, he lets out a low whine. “But you found somewhere to stay.”

“Eventually,” Seungmin murmurs, letting out a dry laugh. “The Crematorium was small, but humans weren’t as careful about keeping things locked up in those days, so it was a lot easier to just wander in and stay. I didn’t mind it. After all, better there than not.”

The bitterness on the boy’s face is tangible. “You know, you once asked me if there was a moment when I realized who I was, and I told you there wasn’t. Because I’ve always known I was Unnatural. But back in those days, when I was still young, I wanted to be human.”

Somehow, the revelation doesn’t shock Chan as much as he thinks it should have.

Shaking his head, Seungmin fiddles with the cuffs of his sweater as he talks. “I was young, it was easy. I looked like everyone else, all I had to do was change my hair so it was long enough to cover my eyes. And I stayed like that for decades. No one ever questioned me, the whole thing was perfect. Except-”

“You aren’t actually human,” Chan rumbles, tone soft.

“No, I’m not.” Pulling on a smile, as if in defiance of the things he speaks of, Seungmin lightly continues, “Eventually, the Unnatural side shines through. Eventually, friends become suspicious and start asking uncomfortable questions. Eventually, you have to explain why everyone else is getting older while you just stay the same.”

His hands still in his lap before clenching into fists. “Eventually, something breaks.”

There’s the slightest tremor in the elemental’s voice. Without thinking, Chan leans forward and presses his snout into the boy’s soft brown hair. He doesn’t know if it helps, but he doesn’t think he can just sit there and watch Seungmin be miserable for a moment longer. Pressed up against the other like this, he can feel the full body shiver that works its way through the boy and hear the soft sound of him swallowing it back.

“What broke, Seungmin?” he questions, as the boy’s hair tickles his snout.

Against him, Seungmin stills before breathlessly giving a hollow laugh. “I think _I_ did.”

At once, it’s impossible to imagine the elemental breaking, and all too easy. Logically, Chan knows how strong he is, how nothing phases him, how he reacts to things that would terrify anyone else with a shrug and a soft smile. He knows this, but when he pulls away enough to see the other’s face, all that strikes him is how fragile Seungmin appears. How small, and breakable.

Almost like a human.

“Watching the people around me grow old was hard.” Though he doesn’t exactly reach for Chan, the elemental’s hands wander out of his lap, until his fingers brush against stained talons. “I couldn’t keep friends for very long, they always moved on without me, and every day at the crematorium I got to watch what happened to humans after they died, because in the end they all did. Unintentionally, I started to realize that I couldn’t be like everyone else, and that trying was useless.”

Chan had never really thought through what it’d be like to be an Unnatural wandering among human society. The mountain is all he knows. Obviously he knew there were creatures down there, but until this moment, he’s never sat and thought about how hard it would be to be trapped within the workings of human life, without being human in the slightest. Now, he doesn’t need to wonder. Seungmin’s expression tells the whole story for him.

Flexing the joints of his paws slightly against the cold dirt, Chan softly guesses, “One day you stopped trying to be human.”

Giving a noncommittal shrug, Seungmin admits, “I don’t know how it happened. Maybe I was careless, maybe something else.” Unexpectedly, his tone hardens, and Chan thinks he hears the briefest flash of anger in the elemental’s voice. “Eventually someone found out I was a fire elemental. That I was _Unnatural.”_

“What did they do?”

Seungmin’s head comes up, and he fixes Chan with a bitter, terrible smile. “They tossed me into the lake, of course.”

 _Oh._ They had tried to kill him. Even though it was doubtless decades ago, an irrepressible urge to _protect_ rises up within Chan, and a growl threatens to escape his throat. “What did _you_ do?”

The bitter smile becomes almost angelic, and Seungmin’s fiery eyes curve up into tiny crescent moons. 

“I burned every one of them to the ground.”

And just like that, Chan gets it, and the knowledge leaves his throat so tight he can scarcely draw breath.

Everything, all the little comments from the elemental and all the regretful looks, the way he talks about getting older less like it’s the passage of time and more like the slow acceptance of reality, it all slots into place. Suddenly Seungmin’s avoidance of the topic makes sense, his sadness when talking about it. Even the other’s insistence that he’s a monster feels contextualized. 

Volatile, had Seungmin called it? He doesn’t think that’s the right word for it.

_Justified fits so much better._

Slowly, Seungmin draws in a heavy breath before letting it go in a rush. His lips draw up into a soft, small smile, and Chan doesn’t know how he can make a face like that after what he’s just said. Then again, perhaps that’s why the elemental glowed so brightly, because he’d been through so much and survived. Though he can’t put the thoughts coherently enough to speak them, Chan does take the moment to reach out with a paw and gently touch the elemental’s knee.

Seemingly shaken from his thoughts, Seungmin’s expression gentles. “It’s better now. I’ve come to terms with being Unnatural, and I live at the forge with Jisung.” One of his hands pops out from the cuff of his sweater so he can trace absent patterns over the back of Chan’s paw. “Having someone else to look out for, especially a fire elemental so much younger than me, made it easier.”

“To move on?” Chan guesses.

“To grow up,” Seungmin corrects. “And stop trying to be something I’m not. As long as Jisung doesn’t do anything stupid, he isn’t going anywhere. Which means as long as the forge burns, I’ll always have a friend.” There’s such a tangible relief in those words that Chan can taste it. It’s the knowledge that for once, being lonely doesn’t have to be the norm, and that even for creatures like them, there’s companionship somewhere. 

He thinks he knows what the swelling in his chest is, and finally, he finds the courage to voice it. “You have me as well.”

“I do, but…” Seungmin bears a fond, crooked grin in his direction. “You’re different.”

Whatever organ Chan has that functions as a heart shudders as it tries desperately to figure out how to keep functioning. “What does that mean?”

Seungmin’s smile only grows, and a distinct feeling of panic rises in Chan’s throat.

“I don’t understand,” he whispers, his rough, animistic voice giving lie to the messy emotions scrambling at his insides. “Does that make me _not_ your friend, or-” Chan doesn’t finish the sentence, but the unspoken words hang between them heavily regardless. A thousand things pass between them in that moment of silence. For the life of him, he can’t decipher a single one.

“Why do you think I come out here, Chan,” Seungmin asks, his voice unbearably soft in the silence, hardly more than a breath.

The truth catches in Chan’s throat, and he can’t speak, can’t even begin to answer the elemental. Desperately, he wants to say that the boy is here for _him,_ that somehow, this vast unknowable universe had placed another being on the earth that would willingly choose to reach out for Chan, and not shy away when he reached back. He wants to believe that he can have that, that he’s not as alone as he feels, that there’s an answer, and that Seungmin is offering that answer freely, and without reservation.

Yet to say it aloud… It sounds selfish, even in his head. When has he ever done anything to earn the beautiful light that emanates from every centimeter of the elemental?

So in the end, all he can do is shake his antlered head helplessly, and stare down at his own taloned paws. “Because you like it here?” he guesses, as the weight of it all presses down on his lungs, to the point he can’t draw breath.

Seungmin’s head dips, and he smiles, but for once, there’s no laugh.

“I’m here because one night, the scariest creature in all the forest tackled me to the ground, and then proceeded to tell me that he was happy to have met me.”

“You’re special to me,” Chan admits, the words coming out in a rush. Though he wants to cringe away from his own words, he stays steady, presses on despite his fear of the reaction he’ll get. “I don’t know what you think of me Seungmin, but… I like you coming up to visit my mountain, and I like you.”

If Seungmin pushes him away, Chan won’t argue. But at least he can say that he was clear. Lying has never been his strong suit; he’d rather be up front than keep burying the matter deeper until it kills him.

He’s not sure what he expects. Maybe he really is waiting for Seungmin to get up and walk away, never to return. Perhaps this all really is a dream, and he’s about to wake up alone in his den. Really, he doesn’t have a set idea for what’s supposed to happen, but somehow, the last thing he anticipates is for Seungmin to reach up and catch his head between two searing hot palms. “Good.”

Baffled, Chan just stares at him, utterly lost.

“Because you’re special to me too.”

“Oh.”

Seungmin chuckles before pulling their foreheads together softly. As warmth emanates from that point of contact and floods his entire body, Chan’s eyes slide closed, and he lets out a faint, pleased rumble.

“You know Seungmin,” Chan says, the words almost lost to the swell of forest noise that fills the silence between them. “I won’t go anywhere, if you don’t.”

“That sounds perfect to me,” the elemental admits. 

And it does to Chan as well. 

If this was forever, he decides, then he would be happy.

~o~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am relatively sure that was chapter shaped. 
> 
> I have done the thing, now I can pass out. Goodnight.

**Author's Note:**

> For reference, because I probably described Chan horribly, just imagine the Cleric Beast from Bloodborne because that's absolutely what his design was inspired by.
> 
> I am uncreative and designing cryptids makes me do the panic.


End file.
